The Way You Make Me Feel
by Reni-Maniac
Summary: Harm and Mac are TAD to TopGun. And while they face each other in court, they are finally ready to go for what they've been long waiting for a relationship. ignores everything after Xmas04
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: 'TopGun' belongs to Paramount Pictures. The JAG-crew belongs to Donald Bellisario and his team. I'm just borrowing them because they fit together so well.

Spoiler: This happens way before the final of JAG. One week after the end of "The Long Goodbye" which took off from the 2004 X-Mas episode. Therefore neither Mattie's accident happened nor is there any Vukovic.

Author's notes: **Big thanks to eridani**. She's working hard to polish my grammar.

_**

* * *

** _

**A new location does not change who you are. But sometimes meeting new friends there helps you gain the right perspective. This story has friendship, love and jealousy. Sequel of „The Long Goodbye"  
**It is a crossover with 'Top Gun' as well, so let's pretend that there is no such movie in the JAG universe.  
And as I promised there will be more Harm&Mac in this one, only not yet (but soon).

* * *

**The Way You Make Me Feel**

_**-Prologue-**_

Nothing.

I can feel nothing where there should be something.

Within seconds my already highly concentrated mind is thinking of the possibilities. What happened? There is nothing my mind comes up with though and still I do not feel anything.

I ponder the last moments. Moments when I flew above the clouds. Moments when everything was alright.

I know I have both my hands firmly placed on the stick between my knees. Only seconds after I pressed the button for the simulated release of my missiles and heard the announcement of a successful hit. Another set of full points. My hands must still be there.

But my fingertips feel nothing. I can tell the stick vibrates against the palms of my hands but there is no feeling in the fingertips. No contraction whatsoever.

I try to look down on my hands when all of a sudden my vision becomes blurry. Things begin to drift out of focus. I press my eyes shut for a second hoping to regain normal sight. But still it is like trying to look through the mist of an early autumn morning.

Maybe it is the flight suit I am wearing. Maybe it did fail for once. Only minutes before I was pulling G's. I have never before experienced something like this. Being clearly aware of what is happening, though I cannot figure it out all the same. Things are drifting in and out of focus as if I have just woken from a blackout. I cannot remember any blackout though. Up to this very moment I can clearly recall everything. And still, just in a moment's notice my fingertips went numb for no reason at all. I try to flex them but get no reaction. Panic is starting to creep up in my mind.

"Base, this is jockey 2. I've got a problem here. I'm coming in." I try to keep my voice even when radioing back to base while still keeping the instruments in focus.

"What is it jockey 2?" the air boss voice fills the cockpit.

"Don't know. But I'm on my way back. Instruments are normal."

Through the mist that is still clouding my eyes I can make out the airstrip of NAS Fallon. I wonder whether I can make it down in one piece without my fingers working properly. I see the ground getting closer while I cannot keep my mind from racing elsewhere. It is drawing up pictures, pictures that will do me no good now.

A voice is guiding me down and I force myself to follow his instructions. It is not easy extracting your wheels with your fingertips out of service. I try using the palm of my hand and finally manage. "Wheels out," I sigh once the sign tells me they adjusted into place.

The ground is pretty close when I start to shiver. I am cold. I realize I must have been for a while. The coldness is creeping through my whole body, starting from my fingertips, and I realize quite surprised, from my six as well.

I will myself to take a deep breath to calm myself – to clear my mind. However the moment I do the cold increases. The air is still as cold as if I am still up above the clouds. Like all of my surroundings are radiating the coldness they had gathered up there before.

Following the instructions I feel the wheels touch the ground followed by the change in momentum when I hit the break as I am told. I made it down. I am safe back on the ground.

"You're in jockey 2. Follow taxi back to parking." I can hear the relief in the man's voice.

I manage to taxi back all the while the cold is taking hold of more and more of my body. Never before did I so deeply wish to leave a cockpit.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Petty Officer, send Colonel MacKenzie in as soon as she arrives."

"Aye sir." I hear her answer before I release my finger from the intercom button and focus back on the file I have been reading.

Barely three minutes later I hear a knock on my door. I check the clock to my right. 0855, five minutes early. A little smile forms on my lips. Marines, we're always the first.

My eyes follow her as she enters my office and comes to stand at attention in front of my desk. "Colonel MacKenzie reporting as ordered sir."

"Morning. Have a seat."

While she does as she was asked I shift through my papers to gather the contents of the file which made me call MacKenzie in immediately.

"I've got a new case for you."

She is reaching for the offered file and instantly checks through the first page that is holding the key facts.

"NAS Fallon sir? Isn't that where Top Gun is located?"

"Yes it is. They've..."

"Sorry to interrupt, but wouldn't that be something for the Commander?"

For a moment I am stunned on her question. "Are you arguing my choice of personnel?"

"No sir, I only thought that Commander Rabb would be..."

"Colonel, I am ordering _you_ to take this case, not Commander Rabb, Commander Roberts or whomever else you would see fit for the job." My voice has risen considerably.

"I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to." I realize she is not backing away though. And once again I realize how proud a Marine this woman I once knew, has become. She hardly is the same person I met back at Okinawa. However her rejection angered me to a point. This office might have been a request program with the Admiral but it is definitely not with me.

"So once again; they've had an incident with an oxygen mask during one of their training flights. I want you to determine whether it was a technical failure or the lack of attention by whomever should have noticed it."

"I see the pilot is a woman. Does this have to do anything with her sex?"

"I want you to check into that as well. You'll leave today at 1215 hours from Andrews. They'll get you directly on base. Dismissed."

The Colonel is rising from her chair but hesitates on her way to the door. For a moment it looks as if she is pondering her next move before she poses a last question. "Why did this come to Head Quarters, General?"

"Is there any special reason why you want to get out of this case? Do you think it's below you to investigate it?" I bark.

"No Sir, there isn't. I'm right on my way." With that she turns and hurries out of my office. This woman has some nerve.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

There are times I really despise military flights. So while my back is still trying to recover from the last few hours I set my mind on going to the research lab first. I need something to do, to keep the jetlag at bay that would surely hit me some time soon. Changing time zones would do that to me, no matter how tiny the gap of hours. I never adjusted to this.

A Lieutenant Commander is walking me through the place until we reach a table where there is an oxygen mask displayed. I guess it is the one I came here for.

He asks me to have a look through the microscope. When I adjust the sight I can see part of the mask's hose. And even from my limited knowledge about these things I can tell that this mark I see is nothing natural. The clean edges suggest otherwise.

"The only thing I can clearly confirm is that the hose was cut. And I do assume that it was done with the knife every pilot has in his flight suit. Let me show you this."

I follow the man to a table pushed against the opposite wall. He hands me a small knife.

"This would leave the same cut."

"That's the knife?"

"No. That's a similar one. I use it for reference."

I feel my spirits fall. "So how many pilots do you have on this base?"

"Don't know. A lot I'd say." Him shrugging his shoulders is not helping me any.

"If I get you the knife could you determine whether it's the one?" That would mean finding the knife first.

"Might try but I'll doubt there will be much to come of it. The cut is pretty small and there's nothing apart from the ordinary. No scabs, no lines – just a clean cut."

So here I go with hundreds of suspects and no reassurance we could even link the knife to the cut _if_ we find it.

"Did you find anything else on the mask or in the cockpit?" I am hoping against hope.

And he destroys it with a simple movement of his head.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

Next on my list is visiting the pilot. So I climb into the car a Sergeant had provided me with the moment I stepped off the plane and drive towards the hospital.

I find the Lieutenant lying on her side staring out the window. Careful not to startle her I quietly address her. "Lieutenant Reese?"

She turns her head without turning her body. It makes the muscles in my neck scream in protest.

"Colonel?" She keeps staring at me all the while I am still facing her back.

I walk around her bed so she would no longer be forced to remain in that position. "I'm here to talk about your little incident."

"Sure, take a seat."

The moment I settle down in the chair beside her bed I understand I would have been better off not sitting, I feel the expected jetlag rushing through my system. However, standing back up does not hold much appeal either. So I make myself as uncomfortable as possible and immediately my back is reminded of the flight. I probably should have stood up. This day is getting better by the minute.

"What happened up there?"

"What happened is that I froze my butt and most of my fingertips off without me having any clue as to why." I can hear some resentment in her words. Was she holding anybody responsible for what happened up there?

"You mean nobody has told you yet?"

"Told me what?"

"There was a clean cut in the hose that provided the oxygen. And from what I understood the dispersing oxygen froze up there and resulted in your injuries."

"You telling me somebody wanted that to happen?" She is now watching me with what I can only place as childish disbelief like when you tell your kid that there is no such thing like Santa Claus. She does not believe a word I say.

"That's how it looks. Do you have any suspects?"

"No." She is stressing the word to make it sound as if she used at least ten o's.

Oh, how perfect. I had hoped that she could at least provide me with some names to choose from my bunch of suspects.

There is nothing more right now to learn from her so I slowly get up from the chair flexing the muscles of my back for a second before I speak.

"I might have to ask you some more questions once I find a concrete lead."

"I'll be here. They tell me it'll take at least two more days until I can use my six again."

There is no way misjudging the tone of her voice. "Guess you don't like staying here."

"No ma'am. I wanna be up in the air again as soon as possible."

"You will be." I head out of her room and down the corridor pondering my next actions.

I have yet to speak with her Commanding Officer who requested my presence but decide against it when I feel the fatigue hitting me once more. This could wait until tomorrow.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

A sigh escapes my lips voicing my current state of mind. This investigation is not going very well so far. Everything I managed to come up with is a wagonload of suspects with no clue as to who could have tampered the Lieutenant's equipment. I am already tired of being here at all. The only good thing about this place is the weather. I have grown pretty tired of the rain in Washington. Still, I would rather be at home now. There are things to investigate there as well which are looking much more promising.

I have been to my hotel where I have reviewed the files once I found that sleep did not come, despite the jetlag. An occupied mind is not a good sleeping companion. I needed to see if I would find anything I had not considered yet when I realized my need to be among people. Sitting alone on my bed staring at the case facts made me wish to have Harm by my side to discuss things with. And thinking about Harm makes me remember the last two weeks. True, I have finally found some closure with Mic, made my peace so to speak. And still there is something occupying my mind every time I think back to that conference. Something did change that week. Something I have yet to go through with. That thing about taking a hold of the chances you are offered. I am still figuring out how to. Besides, Harm did not proceed any further either. We are still standing where Mic has left us. We keep circling around each other. While one takes a step forward the other retreats. Which is so typically like us. We are going nowhere fast, when all I want us to do is to be going somewhere slowly. Mind you, I do not complain. This is a better place than we were in before. And I am trying hard not to back away.

I focus my eyes on the liquid that is swiveling through the glass I am constantly rolling between my hands. Maybe coming to the O-Club was not the wisest choice I have made today. I try ignoring the people that surround me, try to block out the noise. A quiet hotel room seems more and more appealing to me. The more so as this place is crowded with young cocky Navy pilots.

"Hey lady. Why do you look so sad? It doesn't suit you well."

I turn my head to find a Lieutenant sitting on the empty seat to my right. He is about six or seven years my junior though he obviously does not mind. I register the golden wings on his chest just before I look into two astonishingly green eyes. He is not wearing his blue jacket anymore. His blond hair is trimmed short. His lips form an inviting smile. A smile slightly similar to the one I know so well. But one that does not even come close to radiating the same warmth and tenderness. I wonder whether they teach this at flight school to fit the dress whites and the gold wings. Nevertheless I cannot help but smile when I picture Harm sitting there smiling at me.

"See, I knew a smile would look much better on you." The moment I hear the words Harm's vision wavers and turns back into the blonde Lieutenant.

He is leaning in closer now – maybe I have encouraged him a bit too much.

"You want to dance?" My eyes follow his hand to a place at the other end of the room where there seem to be other people dancing as well.

Turning my head away from him I answer, "No thank you. I'll stay here and have my drink."

"Can I get you another then?"

I slightly shake my head, where has he been looking. "Still full." I lift my glass into his line of sight to make my point. I have only been nipping on the bitter lemon so far.

"Sure. If you don't want to." He shrugs his shoulders and turns to leave.

At least he is polite enough to understand a no. What the heck made me come here in civilian clothes anyway? But having changed for an evening at the hotel earlier that night I had not the energy to get my uniform back on. Bad choice. I would scare them all away with my uniform, I always do. It is probably better to go before long.

When my lips leave the glass after drinking half of the liquid I sense somebody else beside me.

"Hey sweetheart, wanna dance?"

I turn my head to repeat my earlier answer only to see another white uniform shirt, another pair of Gold Wings and the same two golden bars on the shoulder straps accompanied by a second smile. Only this time the hair is brown as are the eyes. I sigh inwardly before I open my mouth "no." I really should have left when I had the chance to.

He does not seem to care for my answer and leans much closer instead. Closer even than the one before. I can already feel his breath against my cheek. For a second my eyes follow his hand as it comes to rest on mine before they flick back to his face – an angry glare in them. He begins running his fingers over the back of my hand.

"We can go somewhere else. I know a nice hotel right out of base."

Even though I should have seen it coming I am still shocked when I hear the words. But I recover fast and easily switch into Marine mode. There is no place for Sarah now. This is not the time to be polite.

I grab his hand and slam it down onto the bar with all the might I can muster, and that is a lot I can tell. I twitch a smile when I see him wince once his hand makes forceful contact with the wood. Turning fully around to face him I ready myself for what is next to come. With the best DI's voice I can manage I bark at the perplexed Lieutenant, "NO I DON'T WANT TO DANCE, AND YOU'RE DEFINATELY LEAVING HERE ALONE!"

He nearly falls from his seat as he makes a hasty retreat.

I turn back for my glass, letting out another sigh. This just is not my day. After a while I hear soft laughter. Obviously somebody found my outburst funny. But there is nothing funny about it. There is no way I let something like this pass. Hopefully the good that comes from it would me being left alone.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

I have been standing by the jukebox for a while now. Something I have done if I ever found myself within sight of a jukebox, ever since _that_ day. So I have been standing at my favorite spot occupied with my first and last beer. I will go home after that, I always do. But I like coming here, watching all these young ones. I was once like them. They are my youth. I guess most of the senior officers in this place were like them once. But places and times made us grow up. They eventually will make them grow up as well. Time tends to do that.

I spot her the minute she enters the room. She is eye-catching in her black jeans and the maroon pullover that hugs her figure in all the right places. I have not seen her at this place before. She must be new to the base. My glance lingers on her back when she makes her way towards the bar and I notice other heads turn as well. It is not before long the first tries to make his move.

I still remember the times when I would have been the one. These have been happy times. It was before things started to change. Before my life got worse only to get better in the end.

Interested in modern techniques I follow their exchange, smiling when the young man leaves disappointed.

I only just press the buttons of the jukebox when I catch her words. Half of the room does for that matter. I find it kind of attractive that she can stand up for herself. And the way she does makes my head spin. This is one hell of a woman. Guess the one who finally gets through to her will be a lucky fellow. I am only happy that I have never been on the receiving end of something like that when I still pulled my stunts with women.

When the first strains of Van Morrison's 'Brown Eyed Girl' fill the room I start to move towards the seat that is now left empty beside her.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

I hear somebody settling on the stool I had hoped would remain empty until I had finished the rest of my lime.

"I don't want to dance. I don't want to go somewhere else. And I sure don't want to talk," I snap to my right without even turning my head.

"And neither do I," I get the quiet response that makes me turn my head.

Immediately I feel the heat rise into my cheeks – they must have gained quite a shade of red. "Oh, I'm sorry… Sir," I add once I become aware of his insignia. This time four golden bars are displayed on the sleeves instead of two. I have just insulted a Captain.

"Never mind." He is now turning to face me, shooting me a warm smile.

'Oh my god.' Now I am sure that Navy flight school teaches this smile to each and every pilot over there. It is up to the men what they make of it though. This one is nearly perfect. I would have never thought any other smile could provoke a similar reaction than that of a certain JAG lawyer. But here I am feeling my knees go weak. I am only glad to be seated right now, or I would have slipped on the spot.

"How did you manage that commanding voice? It heavily reminded me of my time at the Academy."

"Must have stuck from my training." I can finally tear my eyes from his smile only to find his eyes. They are colored a light blue. I have to swallow some at this.

"You're Navy?"

I follow his eyes looking me up and down. I would like to know what he is thinking of me now. He is in for a surprise though.

"No Sir, Marine Corps. Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

"A female Jarhead." I spot the slight disbelief in his eyes. But it vanishes instantly to be replaced by something else. Admiration maybe or simple approval.

"Captain Pete Mitchell." He holds out his hand for me to take. Which I do, glad to meet somebody I feel I can talk with.

"So what brings you here, Colonel?"

"It's Mac. I'm doing a JAGman-investigation on base."

"Okay, Mac. I'm Maverick then, or Mav or Pete, as you prefer. So it's because of the incident with Lieutenant Reese's oxygen mask you are here."

"How do you know?"

"I'm her CO for the time being. I requested the investigation. Did you find anything?"

"Yeah. But I would rather discuss this some place else."

"Didn't you just tell me you didn't wanna go somewhere else?" If it were possible I would say his smile got even wider when he recalled my embarrassing remark.

I do not know what is making me say it but I feel like I can without him hearing me wrong.

"That was because I did not expect it to be you." Something about this man makes me feel at ease. I blink my eyes at him for the pure fun of it.

He is not looking away, he is up to it. In fact it is me who breaks the eye contact first by taking another gulp of my drink.

"Can I talk you into another one Mac?"

For a moment I watch him. He is only half way through his beer. So I give in and order another glass of lime. Talking to him makes the hotel room seem less and less appealing now.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

I am sitting in my car letting the last hour's conversation resound in my head. I do not recall most of the words but I clearly recall the feeling. The way she ran her fingers over the rim of her glass while we talked about… I do not know what we talked about. Some every day stuff, nothing personal yet. Our conversation turned there quite a time later. I remember starting it by telling her about how I used to get a woman by doing a little karaoke. She made me hum my favorite song. I softly performed the tune of 'You've lost that loving feeling'. I have too many memories of that song not to count it as one of my favorites. She was impressed, so my charm is still working.

As pleasant as our talk has been, it made me late. Nevertheless here I sit stretching the time some more.

Normal days would bring me to the 'Silver State Club' after work, where I have my beer, watch my youth, only to be home by no later than seven thirty. It's a routine I keep up every second day. Sometimes I just need it, no matter how happy I am. Sometimes I need to reminiscence about the days back at Miramar when Goose was still by my side. It is my way remembering him.

Today it was no longer been about my past. Mac turned it into the present. Talking to her feels like we have known each other for years. I am sure that in some ways she is like me or rather like I have been. I might have known from the way she sat at the counter. Desperate to be left alone but with the need to be among people. But I could clearly tell from her eyes. She has seen the hardship of life and is still standing. Which might be why we understood the other that well. We seem to share some experiences.

When I think about this day I see that it has not been about the present at all, it has been about the past. Like every other day I have previously spent there but still that much different because of her. I glance through the windshield at the house in front of me. Now this is the present – and the future.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

I am lying in bed still waiting for sleep to come. I thought that I would be asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, trying to sleep off the jet lag. But I keep staring into the darkness. Every now and then a car alights the ceiling and my eyes see the after image for a time after the darkness has returned.

Meanwhile my mind is making its own journey. A journey back in time and place. It still recalls the way Harm's body had been pressed against mine. It still recalls every nuance of that night's scents. The cinnamon perfume I was wearing, his aftershave, the remnants of the evenings meal that came drifting into the room every once in a while. I can almost feel his arm around me, his fingers pressed against my cheek. That night was the most peaceful in a while, counting the time before as well as the week thereafter. During the last week I have woken each night to search for the warmth of a body next to mine only to be reminded that there was none. I do miss him.

My mind suddenly conjures pictures of Pete Mitchell instead of Harmon Rabb.

We talked quite a lot through the 74 minutes at the bar. We talked like we were old friends meeting again after a long period of time. I feel at ease around him. Why is it I am that attracted to a man I have only just met? Am I again running to a man that is being nice instead of turning to the one I really want? Am I again making a mistake? When I ponder the question I find that I am not attracted to Mav in a physical way that much as in an emotional way. He is playing a chord few manage to find in me. Actually only one other man has so far.

Is that why I can think of him as a friend already? Because he is so much like Harm in some ways? While in others he is totally different.

They both have the same pride with which they wear their uniform and their gold wings. They even share the color of their eyes, though I remember Harm's being a little darker at times. Then again I do not know Maverick all that well. Maybe his eyes express his moods just the same as Harm's do.

However, in a way they are as different as they could possibly be. From the moment I met him I could tell that he was someone who goes for what he wants. Harm is only learning to do so, just as I am, when it comes to our relationship. Maverick radiates some – I do not know how to describe it – I can only guess that it comes from having found his place in life. A place Harm and I are still struggling to find.

With meeting Maverick it feels like I am meeting Harm for the first time all over again. I can feel the strength of our friendship again. The strength it held been before. Before what actually? Before I have left JAG for Dalton, before he left JAG for flying, before Australia? Through all of this our friendship has remained, not unharmed but still strong. And this reassuring thought finally lets my mind rest and the jetlag take over my body.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Maverick, where is your flight plan?" I follow the finger of Tom, the instructor that would play prey with me today. He is gesturing to the place on my flight suit where there would normally be my instructions on who would be hunting me. They should have been neatly taped to my right thigh.

Great, I must have forgotten it in my office. "Go ahead Tom. I'll meet you there." Shaking my head I hurry back into our building. I am getting old. I swear someday I am going to forget my pants right next to the glass that is holding my teeth.

Walking back to my office I see a familiar figure coming towards me. I wait for her outside my door.

"Good morning Mac."

"Morning, Sir." She starts to salute me but I wave her off with a smile. "Could I talk to you?"

"I am expected at 0830 sharp."

"That leaves me 22 minutes and 18 seconds," she states matter-of-factly.

"Huh? How did you do that?" I am sure she has not glanced at any watch.

"Great timing."

I turn the key to unlock my office and let her go in first. "Have a seat." For a few minutes I search through the papers for my flight plan before I settle on the edge of my desk that is closest to her fixing the paper to their usual place.

"So did you find out what happened?"

"Not yet. All I can say is that this wasn't an accident."

Just what I need, some saboteur on my hands.

"I would like to speak to all of your pilots."

"Why only them?"

"The incision was made by a knife only provided to Navy pilots. The very same that you wear." She is pointing at the small pocket on my flight gear that I carry the knife in. She must know her way around pilots if she knows where to find it.

"So I'm a suspect."

"Right now sir? Yes you are." She is giving me an apologetic smile.

"Alright, ask Petty Officer Brown out there. He knows where all of the guys are or at least where they should be."

"Thank you."

"But you do realize that there are many more pilots on this base than those from Top Gun?"

"Afraid I do. But I gotta start somewhere." I get the strong impression that she is going to have to do a very tedious job here. Spending hours questioning people. I wonder if she really likes this part of her job.

"Let's talk about the Lieutenant. What do you think of her?"

"She's been one of the best. She could have made it for the trophy."

"You don't think she can anymore? She hasn't missed that many flights. Surely, she can catch up."

"No she hasn't but scuttlebutt has it that she is thinking of backing out. Getting a landlocked job somewhere. And once you think of quitting it is damn hard to get back on top." I sure know what I am talking about. It was the hardest time of my life when I did not know if I should continue flying or let it be.

"I guess scuttlebutt is wrong here. That girl couldn't wait to be back in the air when I talked to her yesterday."

"We'll see." I start rising from my desk thinking we are done now when Mac asks me another question after a moment's silence.

"Do you treat women differently, Captain?"

"Did you just ask what I thought I heard you ask?" I cannot believe she really asked me that. She cannot believe it, can she?

"Yes, Sir. I have to know."

"Back in the days when I first entered Top Gun as a Lieutenant, I would have said yes I did. I did misjudge one of our instructors only due to her being female." I clearly recall the day I was so mad at Charlie for telling everybody that I had been wrong doing what I did. That I had been just lucky. What did that woman know about flying an F-14 anyway? She has never been up there. "But the Navy has changed," and so have I. Everybody does in almost twenty years. I do know that Charlie knows her stuff. "Whoever gets a ticket to come here is one of the best. So as long as they can prove themselves up there, I don't care whether the pilot is female, male or neither at all. Does this answer your question?"

Mac nods at me while she scribbles something on the legal pad that has been lying on her knees ever since I turned back around after searching my desk.

"Have you got any other questions, Colonel?"

"None, Sir." She rises coming to stand a little taller than me. I never realized it before.

"How long are you going to stay in Fallon?" I would love to have the chance of talking to her in private once more.

"That depends on what I find today."

"Alright. The Petty's down that way."

"Good luck up there Mav." It is the first personal note she has let slip.

"How do you know?"

"Your flight gear Captain." With a last smile she turns and starts walking down the corridor.

I remain watching her for a second thinking about this woman that has made a momentary appearance in my life and yet still leaves a big impression. She is quite the girl. Focusing again I hurry out of the building towards the airfield to do what I love most.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

Alright, coffee! I need another coffee. I have just spent five hours questioning a bunch of young pilots. And all I could come up with were these usual phrases like "I always liked her," "You can have a great time with her," "I think she's a great person," and the best of all "She's one of the guys." I doubt that there is any woman in the armed forces that is like one of the guys. We try to blend in, however we do remain women. There is no other female in the current group I could have asked about being in this team. I might search for someone who was here during previous courses.

Thank god, a coffee machine. Pressing the button for black coffee I return to my earlier thoughts.

There is always the chance the women will not talk about what happened here, that is, if there is anything bad about the way Mav runs this unit. Did I just think Mav? Great MacKenzie, he is one of the suspects and you think of him as a great guy. There is something telling me though, he is a nice guy.

So back to what I learned. Every time I asked about the performance of Lieutenant Reese I heard the very same, "She is doing okay." From what Captain Mitchell – see I can do it – has told me she must have been better than that. Though the other pilots might not be as objective as the instructors are. She must have pissed somebody off or the cut would not be there and I would still be in Washington, maybe having a nice dinner with Harm in a few hours. On that signal my stomach begins to growl. I need to eat something. I have had nothing for about six hours already. Painting a mental picture of the base grounds I decide on something else though. I would first visit the Lieutenant again before I head for the O-Club for a late lunch. So I take one of the donuts from the small table to my left to fill at least part of the emptiness in my stomach. Gosh, this donut is old, far too old. And I thought today might be better than yesterday. Swallowing the last bites of the sweet nonetheless and grabbing my coffee, which is hot at least and pitch black, I head out of the building that houses Top Gun.

This time I walk around the bed immediately to spare the Lieutenant the effort to look at me over her back.

"Ma'am, did you find anybody?"

"Let's get through some details first."

I question her about the men I already interviewed. She does not remember anything special about either of them. I should have expected this. Things are not getting any easier when she tells me that about everybody who entered the change room had access to the mask. This case is just a whole lot of possibilities and suspects without any solid leads. Right now I would even go on a vague feeling. But there simply is none.

When I pack the legal pad with the few notices back into my bag I remember something I wanted to ask her. "I have to know one last thing. Have you thought of ending your career as a pilot?"

"Who told you this?"

"Captain Mitchell mentioned scuttlebutt saying so."

"I am not thinking about not flying anymore, I never could. Do you know how it feels to be up there, ma'am?" Actually yes I do only I do not feel the need to do it ever again. My stomach still revolts every time I just so much as think about flying in a supersonic jet.

"No I don't."

"It literally feels like heaven." I see her eyes gain a dreamy look. A look I know from Harm whenever he gets the chance to fly. Thinking about it I suddenly remember other situations he has had this look, situations at my place, at his, when we have had dinner or when we have worked a case together. Would this mean that he is…?

"Ma'am, what are you going to do?" The Lieutenant's voice wakes me from my reverie.

"I'll check some more things but I doubt that much is going to come of it. So with the way things are presenting themselves now, my recommendation would be not to file any charges." I would not know against whom.

For a second I think I see an angry stare briefly flash in the Lieutenant's eyes, but a moment later I'm not so sure. I leave her room with my best wishes and good luck for her fight for the trophy.

Lunch, finally. It is a good thing the Club is not that far from the medical facility. I am nearly starved. Over lunch I think about these amazing blue eyes. So does he love me as much as his flying? Would he tell me one day or would it fade? I remember the night eleven days prior when he said, "I'm going nowhere. I'm right where I want to be." I do believe him. My head does and still my heart is struggling.

After a fat steak and lots of fries I cross the street for the Administration building that holds the JAG office. I still need to make a few phone calls before I can hopefully end this investigation today.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Wouldn't have thought I would find you out here Colonel." Maverick steps up next to me letting the door fall shut behind him.

"You don't know me yet, Captain." I reported to the General about an hour ago and still have some time to spare before I can catch a flight back home. I will not be home before midnight but I will leave here today. I am counting the minutes. Having nothing else to do I stand here just enjoying the moment. Because, as I once told Harm, every now and then I miss the activity of a flight deck where you forget about everything else bothering you. And this is as close as it could get in a landlocked state like Nevada. "It is no carrier but it'll do."

"Amen to that." When I glance at the man beside me after that I find his eyes being focused into the distance and a smile lingering on his lips.

"Maverick, may I ask you something?" I focus back on the F-18 that is about to land.

"Go ahead."

"Why are you still out here? With all due respect, you seem a little old for this job."

For a moment he does not answer. He is obviously thinking about it. But when I see his eyes light up due to the perfect landing the next F-18 has just performed I know that is why.

"To say the truth, I am. But I'm probably only half as happy when I've got no roaring engine under my six, no hands on a stick and aren't able to pull some G's every once in a while. My CO knows that."

"That thing about being happy is something my partner at JAG could have said." Harm as well is happiest in the air.

Instantly he turns towards me, his eyes holding some confusion. "Your partner?"

"Harmon Rabb. He's a pilot turned lawyer and is now switching professions as needed."

"There is a story behind this man. I just know it."

"That there is." And I am still trying to figure it all out.

At that moment a group of pilots passes us. I am not paying much attention when returning their greeting. But one face captures my attention. It looks oddly familiar. A second later I know why and so does the Lieutenant. He goes incredibly pale the moment he spots me.

"Lieutenant." I am stressing every syllable of the word.

I watch the fight he is fighting over whether to greet me properly or trying to vanish into thin air like he did last night. He finally musters up the word "Colonel" before making another hasty retreat.

Mav and I erupt into hearty laughter the moment the door closes behind the pilots.

"You scared the hell out of that man," he tells me only barely managing not to double over because of his laughs.

"If only for the expression on his face, last night was worth it."

"Only for that?"

The approach of a Master Chief interrupts our conversation.

"Excuse me, Sir. Ma'am your flight will be leaving in about fifteen minutes."

"Thank you Master Chief." I can only guess what the Chief must be thinking. I turn back to Maverick to answer his last question. "And for talking to you. Thank you Mav. I loved meeting you."

"So did I."

I take the offered hand. For a moment I meet the eyes of a man that has become something like a friend very fast, but a man I am sure not to see again. I am glad to finally head back home.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-


	2. Do You Trust Me?

**_-Do You Trust Me?-_ **

I was called into the Admiral's office first thing after coming back from this morning's trainings flights. So now I am sitting in front of his desk watching him sort through his morning mail. He has not spoken a word since I entered apart from a short greeting. I watch this man I have now known for nearly twenty years. Twenty years in which I have learned a lot from this man. He is responsible for a great deal of what I am now. If it has not been for him I still would fly against my father's ghost up there. For the first time in years I realize that Admiral Mike Metcalf has grown old. He is getting closer to seventy and the lines in his face clearly show it. I know that it will not be before long that he is announcing his retirement. He told me some months ago that he is thinking about it, seriously thinking about it.

Finally I loose my patience. I want to get a shower, get some reports finished. "Viper what is it?" It might seem odd addressing him with his call sign but everybody who has ever flown with him does it. It feels just right to do so.

"Mav, I hate to break it to you but I'll have to suspend you. Effective now." He is looking at me like a father would. But it does not soften the blow.

I still sit thunderstruck. How did this happen?

Reading my thoughts he starts to explain. "I received an official complaint this morning. And until it is cleared I can't let you get up there again."

"Sir?" I still cannot figure out where the blow came from.

"You are accused of willfully destroying governmental properties and more important still of deliberately harming a subordinate officer. They blame you to have sabotaged the oxygen mask of a Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Reese." My mind is not able to connect everything I heard just yet.

He is looking down at his papers. "The very same."

"I understood that the Navy wasn't going to file any charges. They hadn't enough evidence." I remember Mac telling me about the report she wrote. She thought I should know.

"This complaint was not initiated by the JAG. They only take the legal charges now."

"Then who did it?"

"The Lieutenant."

"The Lieutenant made JAG go for pressing charges?" Why is the Lieutenant doing such a thing? Why me? She has been back in training since this morning and she never gave as much as hint to what she has done. I try to recall all the occasions I had contact with her. There are not many. The group is here for three weeks to date. We have briefly met through the briefings before the flights. We have been in a dogfight three times at most. There simply is nothing that would encourage the reasoning behind her actions. And still she is accusing me of mistreating her. Only slowly the truth sips into my brain. She is accusing me of maltreating her because she is a woman. That is why Mac asked me that question back there. Realizing the incredibility of it all, I rise in a rapid motion and slam my hands down on the Admiral's desk.

"Admiral, do you believe I did that?"

"No I don't. In all those years I have known you I never saw you judge any pilot, male or female anything but fair. No Maverick I don't think you did it." I can tell that he is trying to calm me with the evenness of his words.

"Then why get me grounded?"

"Blame it on the good of the case, blame it on the peace of the matter, blame it on politics. This kind of accusations raises a damn lot of uncalled opinions. But there isn't a thing either you or me can do about it. And it's only for a week, maybe even shorter. After the article 32 you will get right back on track."

Defeated I settle back into the chair. Viper is right, there is nothing I can do but wait. The accusation will surely prove wrong. "Do I get to choose my attorney?"

"Think so. Do you know any?"

"Actually I don't know him but I feel like he might be able to help my cause. Harmon Rabb." This pilot turned lawyer. Surely, he would know what I am on about. He would understand. "He is from JAG Headquarters in Washington."

Viper glances at me, surprised but gives me a reassuring nod, "I'll see what I can do about it."

"Thank you sir." I stand back up to finally head for the shower, or better for home. There is no reason for me to stay here.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"How about lunch?" Mac is leaning against my door her eyes fixed on me.

"Sorry I'm already meeting Sturgis. We still need to discuss the last points of the Carter case."

"Dinner?" Ever since she came back from her appointment in the west last Tuesday Mac seems to be eager to search out my company. Not that I am complaining, I have highly enjoyed the hours she has spent at my place in the evenings. It feels like we are making progress. And without Mattie there, the evenings could get quite boring.

"Dinner will be fine. Anything special you'd like to eat?"

"How about I cook?" She has now walked closer to my desk placing her hands on it and leaning down slightly.

"Huh, did I miss anything? My birthday? My death?"

"No, but I'd like to …" her last words are silenced by Coates knocking on my door.

"Ma'am, sir the General wants to see you ASAP."

"Alright, we're on our way. Come on sailor, better not let him wait." She patiently waits for me to join her, a small smile on her lips. It looks like she is happier now than she has been for the last week. Maybe she is finally over the turmoil Mic's appearance caused.

"I just got a call from Admiral Metcalf in Fallon," the General opens once we are both standing at ease in front of his desk.

"Is this about the JAGman investigation I did two days ago?"

I am a bit surprised; Mac never told me she went to Top Gun.

"It is. There is going to be an article 32 against a Captain Pete Mitchell."

"Sir, in my report I stated that there isn't enough evidence for a conclusion on who might have cut this hose, let alone somebody like the Captain." I am not sure Cresswell realized it but I sure did. There was a tiny pause in Mac's speech just before she said 'the Captain', as if she was about to say something else.

I turn my concentration back to the General when he continues, "Colonel I read your report and I went along with your recommendation until the Lieutenant filed a complaint herself. We do have to take this seriously."

"I understand sir. Sorry sir. But under the given circumstances I would like to defend the Captain." Involuntarily I slightly turn my head to glance at Mac. There is something odd about this situation something I might not like.

"You are saying sorry a lot regarding this case. However I cannot let you defend." I see Cresswell raise his hand to stop Mac from interrupting, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Something about this whole situation is not pleasing the General at all. Maybe he does know about the connection between Mac and this Captain. "Mitchell requested the Commander."

I release my right hand from behind my back to reach for the file he is holding out. At a place in the far back of my mind – alright maybe not that far – I am glad that Mac will not be going to Nevada again.

"You will represent the government in this hearing Colonel."

Mac is immediately focusing her eyes on a point at the wall behind the General. For nothing more than half a second there lingers absolute silence in this room before Mac begins to speak. "With all due respect, I'd rather not do this."

"Why?"

"Personal reasons, Sir."

"Did you know the man before your trip to Nevada?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you mind explaining your reasons?"

"I can't, Sir."

"Colonel, then I order you to represent the government and Lieutenant Reese. Wish denied." He is still sitting behind his desk but his voice has reached a level I am sure is heard in the parking lot two stories below us. "What is it with you and this case anyway?" So he does not know about it either.

Mac is keeping silent, her eyes still fixed on this imaginary point.

"Dismissed."

We both turn and hurry out of the door without actually running. I must have stared at her while I waited for her to walk past me through the door because the moment I close the door behind us she turns around and glares at me.

"What?" It is not much quieter than the General's speech.

"You tell me." I am not the one who pissed Cresswell off.

"There is nothing to tell. Only that I don't see the Captain doing what I am going to accuse him of. I would have had it in my report if I did."

"I know you would have." I do believe what she says and I know the General knows about it as well, he explained that it was not his intent to press charges until that complaint.

"You implying anything, Commander?"

I carefully shake my head. There is definitely something very out of place with this case when Mac is reacting in such a way. I better not say anything more.

Suddenly Mac is closing her eyes, taking two deep breaths before she says, "I am sorry. I'm probably a little stressed right now."

"We both are." My voice is nothing more than a whisper.

In the following silence we keep looking into each other's eyes. I feel that Mac is truly sorry about her outburst. But I know that she will not talk about it. In the end Mac slowly turns around and heads for her office trying to ignore the staff that are still staring at us. Staring at her closed door myself, I wish I could go in there and take her in my arms. If only to make her world spin a little slower so she can take just one breath before being met with new problems.

"Sir?" I turn to face Jen who is carefully approaching me. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know Jen, I simply don't know."

"The General wants me to tell you that your flight will leave in about 90 minutes."

"Thank you. I go tell the Colonel."

"Rather you than me sir." I'd rather it was not me too. However I slowly cross the bullpen for her office.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

Calculating the amount of time we are in the air already I would say we are above Kansas now, half way there. Using the time we have I reread the file and its new additions. Except I have been staring at the same sentence for five minutes straight, my mind otherwise occupied.

Harm came into my office moments after I settled behind my desk. He carefully closed the door before he addressed me.

"Are you alright?"

He got my usual response, "I'm fine."

I could see the confusion in his eyes on what had just transpired out there in the bullpen and in the General's office. But how am I supposed to explain something I do not quite understand myself.

"Our flight leaves in 85. I'll see you there."

I must have answered something because when I broke out of my thoughts I found him gone.

So here we sit, right next to each other not many words spoken since then. We both concentrated on the files instead. But I cannot any longer. I steal a quick glance at Harm. He is no longer reading his file either. He looks like he is oblivious to his surroundings, totally spared from the loud rumbling of the machines and the soft vibrating of the whole plane. His hands are firmly placed in his lap and on the armrest between our seats. I keep on watching him. The sight is fascinating me. Is he thinking about the case, about how to help Maverick? Or is he still thinking about the incident at the office? Has he let it be, accepted my response on the matter? A small voice tells me I do not want this to happen. If it is occupying my thoughts, it should occupy his as well, should it not? I wish I could know what is going on in his head.

On impulse I place my hand over his that is resting beside me. He does not twitch a muscle, he simply turns his head to face me. I need to say something, do I not? But what, I cannot come up with anything. Anything besides "I guess there'll be no dinner tonight."

For the glimpse of a second he is looking at me confused before a small smile appears on his lips.

"We can have dinner at Fallon, can't we?"

"Yes, we can." I am still surprised at what made me question our dinner.

I follow his glance which is now resting on my hand that is still placed atop of his. Immediately I try to pull it back. But his motion is faster and he manages to grab my hand before I can take it out of his reach.

"Don't." He places our hands back on the armrest, our fingers now intertwined. A warm shiver rolls through my body at the simplicity of the gesture. It is nothing more than a touch we have shared hundreds of times before and still it is so much more.

"What have you been thinking about Harm?"

"The Captain. Why he requested me and not you?" He is now looking squarely at me and I cannot escape his glance.

"I… I told him about you being a pilot."

"Why did you refuse to take the accusation?"

Alright, now has he posed the one question I cannot answer. How can I explain the way I feel about Maverick without offending Harm? How can I phrase why it happened so fast? That I feel easy around him because he is like the man that is now holding my hand and because he is not. I cannot. I slowly shake my head.

"You _do_ know the Captain."

"I met him briefly at the start of the week." That is no lie and yet, still it feels like one.

"But?"

"Harm," I am almost pleading with him now. "I can't explain it to you."

"You don't need to. Just tell me."

Endless minutes pass by and I keep staring at him pondering on how to start, if to start at all. All the while he is looking at me with his blue eyes that remind me of Maverick. Suddenly fear makes my body shiver. I will hurt Harm with it. I will destroy what we so carefully build up.

"Sarah?" A single word. How can a single word make my whole world stop?

I glance back down at our hands. Intertwined like our lives. He promised me he would not leave me.

"You'll always be there Harm, won't you?"

His gaze it getting more intense when he answers his voice just above a whisper. "Yes I will."

So I start telling him; about the evening I met Mav. I tell him about the way I feel towards the man. That I feel carefree around him like I have not done for quite a time. And I tell him the reason why. "He reminds me of you."

He nods while he tries to figure out what I have just told him.

"So you don't feel comfortable around me?" He is not voicing it as an accusation but as a simple question. I can tell from his eyes that he needs me to tell the truth.

"I do. But we try so hard not to do anything wrong, not to hurt the other that I sometimes feel like we are forgetting to enjoy the experience. Like we can't be ourselves when we are together. But I want that, I need it. And I need you to be yourself. I don't want us to hold back."

"What if being ourselves won't work? What if we hurt each other too much this time to go on? We've done so before."

"But we can't walk on eggs for all our lives Harm, we simply can't."

"So you want me to be myself?"

"A little."

"You want me to be the cocky pilot with the gold wings?" He now grins at me his flyboy smile.

"I want you to be the man you have become. The pilot with the gold wings mixed up with the father you are to Mattie."

"I can do that, if that's what you want."

I would kiss him if it were not for the military plane and the uniforms we are in. Instead I settle for a silent "Thank you."

"But you'll have to do something for me as well, Ninjagirl."

My eyebrows must be meeting my hairline when I eye him quizzically.

"You need to trust me." I slowly nod. I am working on it.

Giving his hand a last squeeze I softly pull free from his hold to return to the file I have been reading. I feel his eyes resting on my profile for a while before he concentrates back on his work as well.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Would you like to come along while I meet the Captain now? Or would you rather have me drop you at the hotel first?" We landed about fifteen minutes ago and now walk to the gray Ford the base provided us with.

Mac thinks about it until we reach the car. "The hotel will be way out of the way for you. I can stay in the car when you talk to the Captain."

"Don't be silly Mac. From what you've told me, he will be delighted to see you." I still feel a slight twinge in my heart when I think about the way Mac feels towards this man. But right now there is nothing for me to do about than play along and try to do what Mac asked me to.

"Not when he learns why I am here."

There is nothing for me to say about it though something in me hopes for this to happen. That Mitchell will not take much interest in Mac once he knows that she is representing the other side. I turn the key to get us going and finally meet the man that reminds Mac so much of me.

We pull up in front of a neat family home in the western part of the base. A typical base home but well kept. The both of us remain motionless for a minute before we reach for the doors at the same moment. I lock the car and walk around it to join Mac who is still standing on the walkway in front of the lawn.

"So that's it."

"Never thought he would live like that." Could it be that Mac did not know that Captain Pete Mitchell was a family man? Has she overlooked it? On purpose?

"You didn't know?"

"We didn't talk much about private things."

"Let's get going." I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her across the neatly trimmed green.

I realize when her eyes widen in surprise when she spots the children's bike leaned against the railing of the front porch. She obviously does not know as much about the man as she had thought. We slowly take the two stairs up to the porch. Another three steps bring us to the door.

"Hello, is your dad home?" I ask the boy that is opening the door.

He nods before he yells "Dad" back into the house. I figure he must be about twelve or thirteen years old. He is not leaving his place at the door, nor is he opening it any wider than the crack he has first produced. The boy is looking us up and down. Mac first, followed by me. I start to feel uncomfortable when a smile appears on his lips. He must have found something that is pleasing him.

"You are a pilot."

"I once was."

When his father arrives he ruffles the boy's hair and fully opens the door. I cannot help but silently wince as I see a smile spread across the man's face when he sees Mac standing at his door. Mac must have heard as she glances at me her eyes holding an apology.

"Colonel, nice to see you again." He holds his hand out for her to take.

"Though I'd wish it were under better circumstances," she answers taking his hand before she continues, "Maverick, this is Commander Harmon Rabb."

"So you're my lawyer. That was pretty fast." His smile now comes to rest on me.

"Sir," I take the offered hand.

After that Captain Mitchell turns back to Mac. "And you are sitting second chair?"

I see Mac drop her eyes to examine the wood of the porch for an instant before she locks them with his. "I'm sorry. I'm going to prosecute. It was an order." She shrugs her shoulders.

But what bothers me in this situation is the intimacy I see reflected in Mitchell's eyes. There is something to connect these two people.

"It's okay I guess." He steps back a little to open the way into his house. "Come on in. No need to discuss it at the door. Nick, would you show the Colonel and Commander to the living room." Looking back at us he adds, "I'll be back in a minute."

"Alright," we answer already following the boy into the back of the house.

"So you are a pilot and a lawyer." Nick sits down on the armrest of an armchair near the couch both Mac and I choose. "Which is more interesting?"

"They both are."

"Nah, I don't believe you. I'm going to become a pilot like my dad and uncle Goose." This boy sounds like me when I was that age. Or like Josh. I wonder what Josh Pendry is doing now. I have not thought of him for years but this boy reminds me of him, with his blonde hair and the glow in his eyes when he talks about his father or flying.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

"Nick you're gonna be a great pilot but now get back to what ever you were doing before opening the door. I need to talk business with these officers." I clap my son's shoulder to send him out of the room.

"Sure dad." I hear him add a whispered, "How can someone choose lawyer over pilot?"

"How old is he?" I hear Mac ask.

"Twelve, since two weeks. And he's had his heart on flying for what seems like forever."

"I know other guys who took after their father."

I am surprised that she knows about my father when I realize she was not referring to me. For a second her hand comes to rest on the Commander's knee before she pulls it back to keep a proper distance between them. So the Commander followed in his father's footsteps as well.

I settle down opposite the two lawyers studying both for a moment.

"So what are we going to do now?"

"We'll have the article 32 hearing tomorrow where it will be decided whether there is enough evidence to justify a formal court martial."

"But didn't you tell me that there isn't, Mac?"

"I still think there isn't, although I'll have to prove otherwise."

"I guess it will be over pretty fast," Harm concludes.

I truly hope so. "It'd better be. The Admiral has me grounded for the time being."

"You're not allowed to fly, Mav?"

I catch Rabb's expression the moment Mac uses my nickname. There is something in his glance that I cannot place. Something that was probably caused by Mac's intimacy. I realize that so far she has only called me Maverick, even though she called me otherwise two days ago. Is this due to military protocol? Perhaps she does not want to give the wrong impression to a co-worker – or is it because she does not want the Commander get the wrong personal impression? Taking his glance and her little gesture into account I am inclined to guess there is much more about these two than catches the eye. I would like the opportunity to investigate this a little further.

Only one minute later the opportunity rises when Commander Rabb asks about the location of our bathroom.

"Pass the stairs and turn right. The first door."

"Thank you, Sir."

I wait for him to round the corner before I address Mac. "So, this is your partner?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Is he a good partner?"

She starts to eye me a little suspiciously. "The best," she answers slowly.

"Anything else I should know about the two of you?"

"With all due respect Sir, this is none of your business."

I raise my hands in surrender. "Alright I just wanted to make sure he is up to your standards. After all he needs to defend me." I feel sure I have hit a nerve.

The Commander chooses this moment to return and Mac stands up immediately. "Are you done Commander?"

"Sure." He just shrugs his shoulders and follows her to the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow before the hearing. Will 0900 hours be okay, Sir?"

"I'll be here. Just come by."

"Good evening, Sir."

My eyes follow them until they reach their car before I close the door. There is not only a story about the pilot-turned-lawyer but concerning the pair of them as well. I am curious as to how much more I am going to see of it.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Mac what was that about?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired. So can you please start the engine and get us to the hotel." But Harm does not move, he only sits there and keeps staring at me.

"Mac, do you remember that you promised to trust me?"

"I do." I did not actually promise but I guess that is not the point here.

"So why don't you now?"

"Just trust me. Nothing happened." When I think about it, it is true. Nothing happened. Maverick just wanted to know something about the man that was going to defend him. If he had made the right choice. It was probably just my imagination interpreting too much meaning into his question.

Finally Harm turns back to face the road and we are on our way. I am not sure that he is fully convinced yet but there is nothing more I can do about it. The only words we exchange on our way from the base into town are those of directions to be taken. Thankfully, the silence in between does not linger as heavy as I thought it would. It is more like the silences from which you gain new power because you figure out what is bothering you and get over it.

We leave the car at the parking lot of the town's Best Western hotel and head inside, Harm carrying both our bags.

"I've got two adjoining rooms for you. There is a middle door consisting of two doors. Both of you can open your own with the room key. The other needs to be opened from the other side," the man at the counter tries to explain us. "Second floor to the right. Have a good night."

"Thank you."

Tired, I follow Harm to the elevators that take us to our rooms. Checking the keys I find my room to be the second door, his, the third. Carefully he lets my bag slip to the ground when he comes to stop next to my door. Struggling with the keys when I feel his eyes on my hands I finally manage to open my door after two minutes.

"You want me to get it inside for you?" He motions for the bag at our feet.

"No it's okay."

We share a short look before he pulls back from the wall he has been leaning. "Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Harm."

I watch him open his own door before we both enter our rooms with a final "Good night."

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-


	3. Trials And Tribulations

Just as a note: I'm no legal pro, so I don't know if the articles I mention really work in this case. They only seemed the most fitting.

* * *

**  
-Trials And Tribulations-**

0527 - way too early. I turn around to lie on my stomach and burry my face in the pillow. Maybe blocking out the dim light that is already floating into the room will help keeping my mind bare of thoughts and get me another hour of sleep. However, after nothing more than a minute I turn my head to face the doors that are connecting Harm's room to mine.

He is so close it would be easy walking over to him, to just open these doors. But I choose to remain in my bed preferring the safety.

Our conversation from the flight rewinds in my mind. Is it that Harm really sees Maverick as a threat? Is Maverick a threat? It would be easy for me to fall for Mav. But would choosing Mav, with all his similarities to Harm, not mean choosing the easy way when being with Harm is a much harder thing to do?

Starring at the two thin doors I think about my options. I could never settle for anybody else than Harm, no matter how great the similarities. He would never be Harm, he would never be my flyboy. True, Pete Mitchell became a friend fast, but more would mean denying my heart. I listened to my mind before when my heart lay broken in the dust and it always failed to make me happy in the end. I accepted Mic in my life because I thought I knew what I wanted instead of listening to my heart for what I needed. Understanding that "not yet" meant "not yet". It was not much different in Paraguay. I knew why Harm had resigned his commission, that his job had no longer been the only important thing in his life. And yet still I needed to hear the words my heart already felt. I did not trust my heart alone.

My thoughts drift to these faithful days. The night I so desperately wanted him to say the words, to state his intention. He could not and it broke my heart into a million pieces. The day I broke his in return, not because I really believed in what I said but because it was somewhat easier to piece my heart back together without the risk to have it broken again. I am not sure why he did not fight me over this, why he could not even say something there and then. A word, one single word might have changed it all. Sometimes only words can prove what our hearts believe.

I must have dozed off during my contemplation of my memories because when I check back on the time it is a few minutes after seven. Finally time to get up. After getting myself ready I once again stare at the connecting doors. I should see if he is ready yet.

I open my door and then reach for the handle of his. Slowly I press it down, anticipating the moment it would open into his room. The handle is all the way down and I am slightly leaning against the door when…

…it does not open.

I try again with slightly more weight pressed against the door. Maybe it is just jammed.

It still doesn't open. His door is barred; he hasn't opened it. Unlocking this door was the first thing I did last night after entering the room. It seemed natural for me to do so, but obviously it did not for him.

"Harm?" I call through the door supporting my knock.

"Is that you Mac?"

"Who else would it be? Open up please."

"Wait a second I'm right there."

I take a step back into my room when I hear him turn the key.

"Good morning Mac." He gives me his brilliant smile totally unaware of any of my thoughts caused by the locking of his door.

"Good morning." Only after my second glance do I see that he is already fully dressed. "How long have you been up?"

"A while. You?"

We are still standing under the door frame, neither of us having moved. "About two hours."

"You could have woken me."

"Why?"

"Don't know. So what did you do?"

Lying in bed and staring at the door. The door you kept locked. "I was just thinking, I guess."

"Anything you come up with that I should be aware of regarding the hearing?"

"As if I would tell you my tactics, sailor." I slap him lightly across the chest trying to mask my anxiety by something he would expect me to do.

"You should, it could mean that Captain Mitchell won't be going to court. I thought that's what you want." He takes a step towards me while he speaks and is still grinning at me. His eyes tell me that he likes our little interaction, likes it a lot. Right now _I_ don't.

"It is not." Anger is evident in my voice. I long ago found anger to be the best mask for whatever emotions I may harbor. Getting angry at others would mean they are not to see my feelings which right now are something between hurt and fear.

"Oh, but that's what you –" He tips his finger against my shoulder right underneath my collarbone, "- told the General."

I back away from his touch. It tends to divert my feelings, mix them up. Crossing my arms in front of my chest I try blocking him out, try to shield myself from that smile that still lingers on his lips. How can he be so indifferent to what he did? That he created just another barrier between us. Another wall to get over when there are already so many rocks on our way to stumble over.

"I'm not gonna play it easy on you." For a second I see confusion crossing his features about the serious tone of my words. But then they clear and he is back to his easy manner, closing the gap between us with an ease I don't feel right now.

"Too bad, I would have been _really_ nice to you in return." His closeness and the tone of his voice make the little hairs in my neck stand up.

This very moment I do not trust my voice to stay even. He once again got to me despite my guard and intentions. So all I can manage is to raise my brows in a questioning manner. What was that supposed to mean?

"How about breakfast? You must be hungry if you've been up that long already," he effortlessly changes the subject as if he never said what he just did. And in an instant the moment has passed and I am left with only his words fogging my brain. Still contemplating the meaning of his words I follow him out of his room and to the restaurant.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Captain Pete Mitchell, this is the article 32 hearing concerning the accusation according to articles 80 – Attempts, 93 – Cruelty and Maltreatment as well as 108 – Damage of Military Property of the United States. Do you understand the charges?"

It is 1030 hours in the small courtroom the administration building the base offers and I am nervous. I haven't been this nervous since my wedding day. My hands, which are clasped to my sides are all sweaty and I need to force my breath to even out. So this is what will decide my future career.

"I do your honor." Rabb ran through the paragraphs and their meaning with me this morning.

I guess I should be relieved that this is not the actual court martial yet but the hearing. It could mean I won't face any charges, that I'll still have my job by the end of it. However, my nerves don't enjoy that sense of security and optimism; they feel as if I am being brought forward to my execution.

"You may sit down. Is the government ready to begin?"

"It is your honor." I chance a quick glance at Mac when she stands up to call her first witness. She looks at home behind the big oak desk. I am sure she is a good lawyer, but I wish she wasn't.

"Our first witness will be Lieutenant Commander Markus Reynolds, US Navy."

I've never heard of him. Wonder what he's got to do with my case.

"Commander Reynolds, you work at the research lab on the base. What do you do there?"

"Mainly we investigate material failures or search for finger prints. Things like that. When ever you've got some hardware to check you come to us."

"So you were called to examine the failed oxygen mask of an F/A-18 last Monday? What did you find?"

"Usual routine is to check the hardware first. Only then do we run function tests. But we didn't need to this time. I found an incision in the hose that clearly showed the marks of a knife."

"Does the Captain wear such a knife?" Yeah, me and hundred other pilots on this base.

"He does. It's the standard Navy knife all pilots get."

"Thank you Commander."

Rabb slowly rises from his chair seconds after Mac sat down in hers. Now it is our turn.

"Did you examine the Captain's knife?"

"Yes I did. It fit the marks."

"How about the knife from Lieutenant Reese?"

"It could fit the marks as well."

"So you can't say whose knife has been used, can you?"

"No I can't."

"Did you find any fingerprints?"

"No, nothing."

"Thank you, Commander."

Rabb sits down beside me and scribbles something on the legal pad in front of him. I'm not sure about him, but I feel a little relieved that my knife is not the only one to fit.

"Government calls Lieutenant Mandy Reese, US Navy." It occurs to me that it is the first time I've heard the Lieutenant's given name. It makes her more feminine. Ironic that this is the first time that I really think of her as a woman when I am sitting here because she believed I maltreated her because of her sex.

I watch Mandy Reese repeat the Colonel's words before she sits down at the judge's left hand side.

"Lieutenant, you are the one filing the complaint against Captain Mitchell?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He is your Commanding Officer?"

"Yes, he is."

"Why did you do it?"

The Lieutenant looks straight at me while she takes her time to answer the question. I get the feeling that she is no longer sure about this being right.

"Commander Andersen told me I could do so." To my ears this sounds pretty insecure.

"Commander Andersen is one of the base's Judge Advocates?"

"Yeah, I mean yes ma'am. I went there to hear what I can do after you told me you would not recommend any charges."

"You did that why?"

"Ma'am, you said that somebody cut the hose of my oxygen mask and still you didn't file any charges. I just wanted to know if that was all that could be done."

"What happened next?"

"I was told that I could personally file a complaint and that it might come to charges that way."

"Why did you need to complain about Captain Mitchell?"

"I heard that the Captain wanted me out of the program. He said that because I'm a woman and he thinks we're not up to flying jets."

I lean closer to Rabb to whisper, "There is no possible way I said something like that." He just nods at me in return.

"Objection. The witness can't know about my client's thoughts."

"Sustained. Lieutenant don't report on what you think others believe."

"Aye, ma'am. But I had no problems with any of the other people I know. There simply was nobody else who had reason to sabotage my mask." Obviously there was.

"How was your relationship to Captain Mitchell before that incident?"

"We hadn't much contact. He fooled me each time I was up against him in my Hornet."

"So he had tried to get rid of you before, to get you dispelled from the program?"

"I believe so, yes."

"No further questions."

Mac doesn't look at either me or the Commander when she returns to her chair. She hadn't throughout the whole interview. When the Lieutenant made eye contact with me the Colonel stepped into her line of sight as if to block me out of the Lieutenant's thoughts. She hasn't moved since, always facing the judge and the witness; during the other interviews she walked the whole space between the judge's bench and our tables, every now and then casting a glance in out direction. I guess it's a pretty good tactic to humiliate the accused. After all I do feel humiliated and I didn't even do it.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

"Lieutenant, do you know that there is no way of getting somebody expelled from the Top Gun program unless he or she is a risk to his or her own life and those of others?"

"Objection. Why does the Lieutenant have to know about the regulations of this program?" I remain sitting in my chair already aware that the objection will be dismissed and Harm is going to raise the query that will question most of the Lieutenant's motive.

"Goes to determine the motive your honor." There he goes.

"Overruled. The Lieutenant will answer the question."

"No sir, I don't."

"Did the Captain force you to make any extremely risky maneuvers while you were chasing him?"

"No sir, we could always do what we think would work best."

"So there was no way for him to get you dispelled that way."

"That's why he had to cut the hose." Now that sounds pretty desperate. As if she, like everybody else in this room, understood that her motive for blaming Maverick went down the drain.

"We will come to this. For now would you please answer only my questions?"

"Aye, aye sir."

"You said earlier that you only learned of the cut from Colonel MacKenzie. Is this right?"

"Yes sir, she told me."

"Before that, you believed it to be an accident?"

"Guess so."

"And up until you learned of it, you never thought of the Captain to have done anything wrong?"

"He pulled mean tricks on me in the air."

"Right, mean tricks."

Now I stand up to make my point. "Objection, counsel's mocking the witness."

"Sustained."

"Isn't it true that nearly everybody has had the chance to get to your flight gear? And that you blame the Captain only because you can't come up with anybody else but wanted someone to pay?"

"No. He wants me out."

"Don't you trust a capable Judge Advocate to collect and examine all the evidence before she files a recommendation?" I cannot help but feel a little flattered by his statement, though I know it to be the truth.

Harm does not wait for her to answer his last question but turns with a "Nothing further, your honor," on his lips.

"This court is in recess until 1400 hours." I hear the gravel bang and wait for the judge to rise.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"So what do you say Commander?"

"We made some points." Actually not scoring any points today would mean I should give up my job. This has been easy.

"I liked the one about the Lieutenant having cut the hose herself."

"I never said that."

"But you pointed out that her knife could have been used as well." Mitchell is looking at me slightly at a loss. He does not understand the difference between stating something and letting somebody else come to the conclusion by themselves. I could never prove that she cut it herself, plus I highly doubt it.

"How about lunch, Captain?"

"May I join you?" Mac now stands beside me.

"Certainly," Mitchell answers before I can even open my mouth.

"You wouldn't have discussed any new developments, now would you, Harm?"

"Nah, no need to." I know I am sounding a bit too conceited.

"We'll see about that, flyboy," she says flashing me a grin. "Let's get going."

For a second I feel Mitchell's glance on me before he turns and engages himself in a conversation with Mac. Feeling like the third wheel, I walk alongside Mac's other side silently listening to their conversation.

When we cross the street for the Silver State Club a voice calls out for the Captain to stop.

"Maverick."

We turn and wait for the woman that is hurrying our way. Watching Mitchell I catch a smile forming on his lips. Another one captured by his 'charm'.

"How did it go?" the woman asks once she arrives at his side.

"My attorney said we made some progress." I see Mac watching me with a smile. She knows we did, but she knows she did too.

"Oh, that's good honey."

Honey?

"Colonel, Commander, let me introduce my wife Charlotte Mitchell. These are my defense counsel Harmon Rabb and the prosecution Sarah MacKenzie."

"Charlie. Nice meeting you Commander, Colonel." She gives us both a warm smile of welcome. "You're having lunch with the prosecution?"

"Sure, she needs to eat as well."

"That she does. Well, good luck, Mav. I need to run; I have a class in ten. See you tonight." She places a short kiss on her husband's lips before she hurries away again.

A little perplexed, Mac and I watch her back disappear into the distance.

"You two coming?"

"Yeah," Mac answers and walks up to Mitchell who has already made it to the door of the O-Club. Not wanting to be left behind and not wanting to leave these two alone I hurry after her.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

The lunch was fine, fine and funny. Funny that is if you ignore the bad mood Harm has seemed to be in.

"Thanks Maverick for the lunch. See you in court."

"I can't do anything about it." He shrugs his shoulders with a smile before he addresses Harm. "Can we talk about what will happen next?"

"Actually I'd like to have a word with the Commander myself, if that's okay."

"Sure." He heads off, but then turns to say, "No dealings."

"Alright," I answer when Harm still stays silent.

I wait for Maverick to turn around the corner before I start to speak again. "Harm, what is it? You haven't talked much during lunch. It can't be about the case, can it?"

"Nothing for you to bother about. I'll deal with it I guess." He takes a few steps away from me to lean against the wall.

"Come on Harm, you know you can tell me."

"Do I?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" His whole change of attitude during the last hour has taken me by surprise and his now slightly raised voice is only adding to that, completed by the strangeness of his question.

"Don't know, maybe that you've got other things to occupy your mind."

"That would be?" I am no longer trying to calm the waves. He's going to go for it.

"Just observing things."

"Is that what you did during lunch, observe things? What do you think you saw?"

"What I saw? My client gets along better with the prosecution than with his own counsel." Alright, that is what this is about. He still doesn't trust me about Maverick, even though he was there.

"That might be because you despise him for no apparent reason."

"I believe there is enough reason to keep an eye on him."

"So we're back at you being jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I just think that my client should not be on joking terms with the prosecution."

"So you'd rather have me lunching alone."

"That's not what I meant."

"No, you meant that I don't have the right to find new friends." I point my index at him to emphasize my words.

"Not as long as you're trying to get them court-martialed." And probably not as long as they might claim your place.

"Weren't you the one who taught me to separate my professional life from my private one? You told me once to keep what happened in the court room in the court room. Why can't you?"

"This got nothing to do with me. This is about you and Captain Mitchell."

"Here we go. You do feel threatened by him, don't you?"

He casts his eyes down to the floor for an answer. His next words are only whispered and I almost miss them. "You're a beautiful woman." For him this explains everything.

Immediately my temper cools considerably. "He's a married man, Harm," I say taking a step towards him.

"It wouldn't stop me." He still isn't looking at me.

"I know you better than that, it would."

Suddenly his head jerks back up and he looks straight at me. "You don't know him. Hell, you only met him four days ago."

"I know you possibly can't understand but I'm as sure about him as I'm sure about you." I gently touch his arm before I softly say, "Besides, I wouldn't let him."

He does not answer this one but keeps staring at my hand on his arm. I am not removing it.

"I'm sorry."

"Think you can deal with it when I promise he is no threat?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" His eyes are now level with mine so I clearly see the insecurity that is still lingering in them.

"Yes, you do." I start rubbing my hand over his arm to reassure him that I'll be there, that Maverick will not take me from him.

"We should get back into court. I still need to talk with my client."

"Alright." I finally retreat my hand from his arm and let it fall to my side. Silently we walk the corridor side by side.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"I'm home," I tell the empty hall when I enter my house.

"You're early." Charlie comes strolling out of our home office.

"You forget I'm not allowed to do my job."

"Yeah that's why it's now up to me to entertain you for the rest of the day." She takes my jacket and carefully places it on its hanger. I guess with time it has become an automatic move, something like turning the key when you want to start your car. You do not have to think about it anymore. And she does not think about my jacket, she just takes it every night and hangs it up.

"Anything special on your mind?"

"How does a movie sound?"

"Perfect. So how was your class?"

"Great. 90 minutes with 20 hot shots. You simply have to love them." She wraps her arms around me.

"You always have." My hands reach up for her face and tenderly frame it. I like the feel of her skin against my fingers. Like to trace the little wrinkles beside her eyes. Softly I pull her head towards mine. Our lips come to meet in a kiss that has not lost any of the passion our first kiss held.

"Not before you came along." She takes my hand and walks me to the living room. "What about your lunch, was it nice?"

"Quite pleasant. Do you remember when I told you about the woman I met in the O-Club at the start of the week?"

We settle down in our favorite places on the larger of our two sofas. Out of habit my feet come to rest on the coffee table and my wife curls up beside me, her head on my shoulder.

"Vaguely. You told me you felt like you could tell her about everything. Was that her today?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still feel the need to talk about the accident?"

Do I? It is almost twenty years now. Considering that Nick Bradshaw had been my best friend, my family I did cope with it rather well, but am I over it yet? Maybe I never will though I found out that talking about it helps dealing with it.

"Does it bother you that I feel that way about Mac?" After all it has taken me two years to tell my wife about my feelings concerning Goose's death.

"Not much. I know that there are some things I can't help you with and I accepted that a long time ago." I kiss her forehead that is resting against my cheek. I know that she is the only person to truly understand me and that she'll only be a step away when I need her.

"Why do you think you feel that strongly about her?"

"Maybe she has gone through similar experiences, maybe she's just a good listener." I really cannot tell.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"No. And ever since Rabb, this partner of hers, is around I don't see a chance. I don't think he likes me much."

"Maybe because he finds it odd that you and this Mac got this close that fast."

"I find it odd myself, believe me."

"Or is there something between these two?"

"Did you realize anything?"

"No, just guessing from experience." With that she places a quick kiss on my lips before she snuggles back against my shoulder.

"Should I get the film started?"

"Don't, I'd like to just sit here for a while and treasure the moment."

I lean back and wrapping my arm a little tighter around my wife I close my eyes to do just that.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

I should be reading my notes on the interviews with our witnesses to prepare for tomorrow, but all I can do is think back to this afternoon. The look in her eyes clearly told me that I have no reason at all to worry about Mitchell. I want to trust her, I do trust her. However, my heart misses a beat each time she smiles at him, each time they share a laugh. She said she likes him because he is like me. That's probably what makes me go crazy, that if he's like me he'd certainly develop similar feelings for Mac. That maybe in the end he would take my place with her.

My eyes travel to the doors we left open. She is here with me, she said she would be. But how long? I know I've hurt her with my jealousy, because jealousy it is. So how long will she remain so close? How long will we both be able to bear our current situation?

Holding my breath I listen for any sound from her room. There lingers silence. The same silence that lingered throughout the hours since our conversation. Realizing it is up to me to break it I take a deep breath and get up from my chair.

"Mac?" I knock on her door, standing on my side of the threshold.

She does not look up from her reading. "Mhm?"

"I want to apologize for ruining your lunch. Let me buy you dinner?"

She finally looks at me. "You know how to win my heart. Apology accepted."

"Probably more your stomach than your heart."

"No matter what, you've got me with you. So where are you taking me?"

"How does a steakhouse sound?" There is one about four blocks from the hotel. We pass it each time we drive to the base. And I already thought of taking her there before.

"Yummy."

Now this meal I enjoy. We talk about everything that is not work related. We muse about the looks of the two newest Roberts kids that are due every day now. We talk about Mattie and how I miss her. We talk like friends. Friends talking about friends.

"How is Chaplain Turner doing?"

"Last time I asked Sturgis he said that the Chaplain is nearly as fit as ever."

"Good to hear that. Did you visit him again?"

"No." I always wanted to but never found the time. There was always something keeping me from going. I think back to the day at the hospital, when the ever present man seemed so tired, so pale. When I look back at Mac she seems to be forlorn in her own thoughts, absentmindedly playing with her napkin.

Feeling my eyes on her she let go of the item and looks at me a small smile on her lips. "That was delicious. Thank you for the dinner, Harm."

"You're welcome."

In between these last sentences her eyes frequently traveled to the small dance floor.

"Do you want to dance?" Standing up I hold my hand out for her to take and pull her up.

"Love to."

My hand on the small of her back I guide her through the tables. A slow country song is filling up the room. Something about a lost love. A man's voice is singing about the mistakes he made. Mac is turning around to face me when we reach the open space. I wrap my arms around her when the man continues on the things he misses about his love. She squeezes her arms trough the gap between my body and my own arms and let them rest on my hips. We slowly take the first steps, softly swaying our bodies to the fading music. Another song comes on when Mac closes her eyes and lowers her head against my shoulder. The world around me fades into the distance. All that remains is the feeling of her body next to mine and the slight tickling her hair causes on my cheek. I stopped caring about the music. My music is the drumming of our joined heartbeats. I could dance like this forever.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

My heart still feels like dancing when he guides me back into my room.

I don't know how long we stayed on the dance floor in each other's arms. And nor do I know who stopped first, but at some point we just stopped dancing. We simply stayed there in the middle of the room and starred at each other. His eyes held so much depth, like the bluest ocean. And like the sunrise above the horizon, his eyes began to shine. Helplessly I was drawn to them, wanted to drown in them. I so much needed his lips on mine that when they finally made contact I started to shiver. He rubbed his hands up and down my back while his tongue shyly brushed against my lips. Willingly I opened my mouth, letting my tongue contact his.

The cough of an older woman made us break the contact. For another while we kept standing there before we slowly made our way back to the table.

"It was a wonderful evening," he says closing the door behind us.

"It doesn't have to be over."

"I need to prepare for tomorrow." His apologetic glance tells me he is not trying to back off but is speaking the truth.

"You can work here, can't you?" I don't want him to be in the other room I want him close right now.

"I'll be right back." He flashes me a quick smile before he hurries into his room only to be back a second later, a file in hand.

"You can have the bed if you like." I settle down in the chair next to the door, opposite the bed. He lies down on my bed, his head propped up on his hand and the file opened beneath his elbow.

Finally I turn to the file containing tomorrow's witnesses myself. After having read for a while I hear steady breathing. When I look up I find Harm asleep on the bed. I carefully pick up the file and the papers that are spread all over the bed and place them on the little table. I gather mine as well and put them right next to his. For a moment I consider pulling the blanket free from beneath him but decide against it. I would wake him in the process. So I take the one from the wardrobe instead.

I just have to stare at him. He looks so cute when he is sleeping. I can almost picture the little boy he once was.

Softly, I make my way towards the doors between our rooms. For a while I remain there leaned against the frame looking at the peaceful scene. Finally I find the will to pull my gaze from him and turn to close the door behind me and settle for the night in his bed.

I close my eyes and curl into a ball willing sleep to come. But bit by bit my thoughts slip through under the crack between the door and the floor back into the other room, back to him. My mind's eye is producing an image of the sleeping man so real I am tempted to reach out for him. I won't be able to find any sleep this way.

So giving in, I get back up and reopen the door. I keep standing there for another moment. He has moved slightly. Should I really do it? Hell, it's what I want to do. Just as quietly as I left the room some twenty minutes prior, I now walk back to the bed. Hesitating another moment I finally sit on the bed. This is no double bed but still large. There is enough space left for me to snuggle up beside him. So I carefully lie down holding my breath for a moment hoping he doesn't wake from my movements. I couldn't have explained just why I would rather sleep in this bed than alone. Then again maybe I wouldn't have needed to explain.

Once I have settled into a comfortable position I feel him stir a little before his arm wraps around me. Smiling I finally fade off into dreamland. Tonight I will not wake searching for warmth, because it is enveloping me like a sweet cocoon.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

* * *

Thanks _starryeyes10_ for reading all my stuff, it means a lot to me. 

Besides, is there anybody else out there still reading this? Just drop a short hello, would ya?


	4. Somehow Familiar

Sorry for the long, long wait, but right now both the life of my beta and mine is pretty busy. But to make it up to you I'm posting this chapter in whole instead of two parts as I planned.

* * *

**-Somehow Familiar-**

When I become aware of my surroundings I feel warm skin beneath my fingers. I can feel her breathe. I will not open my eyes I want to exploit this dream as I can. I've had this dream quite often since the night I got to spend with Sarah in my arms. It is always the same. She is just lying there next to me. But never before has it felt so real, felt her skin so smooth. I cannot help but begin to draw circles on her stomach, my finger touching her skin only so softly. With the time passing the circles get bigger and cover more of her skin. I can feel her rips already.

The alarm makes me jump in surprise. I am practically sitting upright in bed. A soft moan makes me look to my right. And what I find gives me the second shock this morning. Mac lies next to me, struggling to wake up. Quickly I try to recall where exactly I had my hand before the alarm woke me. What if it has been for real? If it wasn't a dream for once? Had she realized?

Mac has now opened her eyes and smiles at me. How does she manage to look that beautiful this early?

"Was that you jerking my head up so rudely?" She must have rested on my arm when I so rapidly pulled free when the alarm went off.

"I'm sorry. So how did you sleep?"

"Just perfect," she sits up, her shoulder brushing slightly against mine. Immediately the feeling of her skin against my fingers shoots back into my mind.

I lift my legs out of the bed and begin to stand up. "How did I end up here," I ask once I realize it actually is Mac's room we are in.

"You fell asleep last night and I was too lazy to carry you into your own bed."

I grin when a picture of Sarah MacKenzie throwing me over her shoulder and carrying me into the other room comes to life in my head. There is something else bothering me about the situation though. How did she end up in the same bed? But I can't work up the guts to ask, fearing what might be the answer, though I'm not sure why.

She still sits on the bed, her legs pulled up to her chest so her chin rests on her knees. Her arms are wrapped around her. She looks as if she's really comfortable right now. If Mac is comfortable, then why aren't I? I know I was comfy ten minutes ago with her resting in my arms. But somehow the alarm set free second thoughts, second thoughts that aren't soothing at all.

Clearing my throat I start to turn around. "We better get changed."

I hurry my steps slightly to flee the discomfited situation without looking like I do.

After having showered and getting ready I am about to slip into my shoes when Mac starts to tell me "I had a weird dream last night, you know. I was lying at the beach when all of a sudden the wind began drawing circles on my stomach."

Oh my god! So she did actually feel it. My dream wasn't a dream at all. "Have you deciphered it yet?" I ask trying to mask the emotions now running wild. Did she like it? Did I do something wrong? Was it too fast? Would she have wanted me to go on?

"It could mean that I am going in circles and should stop doing so."

"But you did like the feeling of it, didn't you?" I simply have to know. A huge smile appears on my lips once I hear her "yes".

"It probably is something good then. Doing the wrong thing wouldn't feel right, now would it? Are you decent?"

"Sure, come on over. Yeah maybe you are right. Though what does it mean?"

I find her sitting on her bed and walk over to her. "Maybe it was simply something to please you with. No meaning at all." Now my smile is directed at her as I reach for her hand to pull her into a standing position.

"Maybe it was." Did I just see her eyes glistening a little? I am not entirely sure but I sure wish it was there.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

I dropped Harm at the administration building for a pre-court meeting with Maverick while I drove further onto the base to meet with Admiral Metcalf. I still need to talk to him before he appears in court later today. The offices for NSAWC are located right next to the hangars and the airfield. So when I open the door of my car I hear the roaring engine of a starting jet. I'm aware that I would probably hear it near the gate as well but here the noise is emphasized by a noticeable vibration in the air. I can feel it in my ears and my stomach. Seeking the relative calm of the house I hurry across the parking lot and head into the building.

A small group of pilots passes me by on my way in and immediately my thoughts jump back to this morning.

_Maybe it was simply something to please you with._ His words and the smile accompanying them still linger in my mind. Instinctively my hand comes to rest on my stomach just above the band of my trousers, the very place his warm fingers have drawn steady patterns on my skin. And yes, this soft touch was something I took pleasure from.

I had been awake for a while already before the alarm ended the little episode rather abruptly. I woke to his first movements. They made my skin tickle and goose bumps appeared on my arms. For a second I was lost as to what caused the sensations before I remembering just where I spent the night. Keeping my eyes closed I concentrated on his fingers and their constant path. It cost all my will power not to moan my pleasure. The gesture was so tiny and yet it caused a turmoil of emotions. I wanted to turn around and face him, kiss him, just do to him what he was doing to me. But I did not for fear that he would end it if he realized I was awake. That he was only safe doing this when I was 'asleep', so I remained asleep. When Harm's fingers first crossed my ribcage a moment later I couldn't help but stir a little. And for a second we lost contact. With all my might I controlled my body to lie still when every part of it screamed for the return of his touch. I waited for endless moments before his fingers resumed their place on my skin once again sending shivers through my whole body. Slowly the range of the circles got wider with every new one.

That was when the alarm broke the charm. In the blink of an eye his fingers were once again gone and so was the arm I was resting on. The shrill ring brought us back to a reality where we are still far from a place offering that much ease and comfort. It clearly showed in his eyes, the shyness, the confusion, the nervousness. It was reflected in the hurry with which he disconnected from our touch and got out of the bed. And yet, hidden under all that I found something else. A joy, a laughter I hadn't seen in weeks. He seemed to be happy.

When he returned to his room I remained sitting on the bed my eyes closed, reveling in the moment. The way I was lying in his arms, his hand comfortably resting on my naked skin felt so natural to me. I wonder how far he would have gone. How far would I have let him? For a few wonderful minutes there we were close. Things were uncomplicated and we opened up. He let me in and I let him near. It was so easy, why isn't it now? Why did it all change once the day had begun? Why is everything between us a struggle? Why is there always a down before there is an up? Like the fight over Maverick we had before the night. Like yesterday morning when he had his door locked. I still haven't asked him why. There is always something causing us to second-guess the other's intentions, to let us doubt our way. Why do we always tend to confuse or hurt the other, when at the next moment we are capable of the totally reverse actions? We've been like that for years. These last two mornings have contrasted in their differences, and yet reflect most of our relationship. Couldn't there just be some ups, if only for a while? I know that there can't always be good times, but Harm and I have had our share of bad ones, didn't we?

Finally breaking out of my reverie I check the numbers on the doors. Shit. I've missed the Admiral's office. So I turn back and hurry down the corridor to find the right door.

Knocking I wait for the order to enter before I open the door.

"Colonel, have a seat."

"Thank you for allowing me some of your time, sir," I say, settling down in the chair in front of his desk.

"It's alright. So what do you want to know?"

"As a defense witness you're a reputation witness for Captain Mitchell, so I'd like to hear what you can tell me about him."

"Mitchell is one hell of a pilot. I've seen few who are better up there." The Admiral leans back in his chair, his hands pressed together at the fingertips forming a triangle in front of his chest. I'm sure he is about to get lost in memories.

"Admiral, I know that. What I don't know is his character."

He doesn't change his position but his eyes focus back on me. "When he was younger he was a hot shot." Aren't they all? I guess you have to be slightly out of your mind when you dream of flying a super sonic jet. "Nothing was fast enough for him, nothing high enough. He was taking the maximum risk up there. He needed to prove that he belonged there."

"So he's always flown at the limit. And whoever isn't up to that doesn't belong up there. Is that how he thinks things should be?"

"Colonel, flying a super sonic jet means you're walking the razor's edge. You just have to know how to keep the balance. You have to know your own limits and those of your jet. A pilot can't survive up there if he isn't aware of that. All our instructors teach that to the pilots."

"To what lengths would the Captain go to prove that somebody isn't aware of those limits?"

"You mean if I think he would cut that hose?"

"For example." I know from his glance what Metcalf is going to tell me next.

"No he wouldn't. I've known this man for twenty years and I know he wouldn't."

"But you said that he took risks up there. Maximum risks. Is he trying to force the pilots to take the same risks?"

"I said he took. Maverick settled down, he's grown. He no longer needs to prove something and he's making it clear to his students that they don't either. He learned it the hard way what it means to take too many risks."

Even though I know the Admiral most probably wouldn't answer me I still ask, "What happened?"

"That's not for me to tell."

So all I have learned is that it isn't likely that Maverick was the one to sabotage the Lieutenant's mask. I wouldn't score many points with the judge today.

"Once again thank you for your time, sir." I stand up to come to attention and leave the room.

"Colonel, let me ask you one last thing." I hesitate in my movement and wait for him to continue. "Three days ago you yourself filed a recommendation that there are no evidences, but now you're back suing the Captain. Do you believe he did it?"

"It's not for me to have an opinion about that. I've been ordered to take the prosecution and am obligated to present enough hints to justify an official court martial on the matter."

"I do understand you, Colonel. Still I like to know whether you believe he did it."

A moment I'm pondering my answer before I straighten and say, "No sir, I don't." It is what I truly believe.

"Then I hope you loose." He smiles at me and I'm dismissed from his office.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

We walk the corridor to my office. I'm not sure what made me ask the Commander to come along. He could have waited at the courtroom for the trial to start, or gone somewhere else, but now he is walking alongside me in silence. When we turn around the corner I spot Mac coming out of the office that must be Viper's. She is headed in our direction and we come to meet just outside my door.

"Good morning Mac. I've got a very strong sense of déjà vu."

"Me too. That might be because we met in the exact same way three days ago."

"Yeah and you told me back then just exactly how many minutes I had left."

"I could do so now."

I turn slightly towards Rabb but my eyes never leave her. "Do you know how she does that Commander?"

"In all the years we've known each other I never figured it out. And I doubt she'll ever tell me." Mac starts to relax a little and smiles broadly at us. Guess Rabb knows what he is talking about.

"A woman gotta keep her secrets." I'm sure there are more secrets about Sarah MacKenzie than just the great timing.

"What are you doing here?" Rabb asks after a while.

"I've just interviewed one of your witnesses."

"Now?"

"Hadn't had the chance before. The Admiral is a busy man. And you occupied him all of yesterday morning, sailor." Now that gets my attention. Never before have I heard the Navy's nickname been said with that much warmth and affection.

"Wouldn't want to give you too much of a head start."

"You're afraid, you gonna loose?" Mac answers her voice now holding a playful tone and her body leaned slightly towards the Commander.

My eyes continue to dart back and forth between the two lawyers. They seem to be totally oblivious to my presence and everything else that is surrounding them. These two have definitely got something going on.

A short laugh escapes Rabb's lips before he answers, "This case is mine and you know it MacKenzie." He straightens up as if to make a better expression on her. She just snorts at his behavior. A short and lovely snort that is.

"Good to know you're confident about our case," I finally step in.

Immediately they both snap out of their own world and back into the real one. The one where a stranger- a superior listened in on their conversation. Both their faces gain a little red coloring, hers more than his. Intentionally they both take a step backwards to create more than the necessary distance.

"Sorry sir, we got …" Rabb searches for the right words, his eyes pleading with Mac to help him.

"Absorbed," I supply perfectly sure that this is what just happened. They got absorbed in one another's presence.

He just shrugs his shoulders still embarrassed while Mac is nervously playing with her cover, her eyes fixed on the wall behind my back. A silence settles over our group. I'm sure it is an awkward one on their part but I find the humor in it.

Finally Mac speaks up. "May I join you on your way back?"

"Certainly."

"Just a wait a second and I'm right with you," I say remembering why I came here in the first place. I wanted to check my mail.

I open the door and round it to reach the sideboard where my neatly sorted mail is to be found. I haven't bothered to close the door behind me so I can clearly hear the words that now come drifting into my room. They are whispering but still standing right behind the door – well out of sight, but within earshot – which lets me hear them clearly enough.

"Uhh, that was embarrassing." The Colonel.

"Just imagine if we had been talking about something other than the case," Rabb whispers back.

"Yeah, like this morning and my dream."

"We would have been transferred to god-knows-where within a week."

"All the more so if I told that you were the cause behind it." I can hear Mac starting to giggle. I never thought of her as being a giggly person.

"You… you actually kn… know that it was me?" He stutters. A lawyer that stutters. I wonder what more surprises this morning will hold. Leaning closer to the door I try to catch a glimpse of either of them through the small crack. But I only see part of Rabb's head, his ear and hair mostly. I would love to see his face right now. From the way he spoke I'm sure it's now redder than minutes before, his ear at least is.

"It's okay. As I said, I liked it." Her voice is calm and reassuring. I see the tips of her fingers come to rest next to his ear. I turn slightly to get a better view but I can only guess that she placed her hand on his cheek. They fall silent after that. Waiting for the next words my eyes remain fixed on the crack between the wall and the door. But they don't come and finally she removes her hand.

Shaking my head at the two of them I return to concentrate on my mail at last. Nothing important though. I cough and take my time to walk back around the door, to give the two of them enough time to compose themselves.

"Alright, let's go." I turn the key one finale time and study Rabb and MacKenzie out of the corner of my eye. He seems nervous but has got that goofy grin on his face. She looks more controlled over the matter. I guess that's because she wasn't the one being caught in the act so to speak. Her lips form a happy smile that I see is directed at the Commander. I'd love to know what exactly there is between them, even though I can already make an educated guess.

We proceed in silence, Rabb on my left side and Mac on my right.

"Mac?" She left my side as we crossed the entrance hall and stopped to look at something taped to the wall.

Both the Commander and I walk back to join her. Immediately my eyes come to rest on the board that holds all former winners of the 'TopGun'-trophy. Every now and then I can't help but to stop on my way in or out to read through all the names.

"Maverick, do you think the Lieutenant will make it up here?"

"You better not answer this Captain," Rabb advises me.

"Oh come on Harm." And just as she is half way through her sentence I start to answer her question. Why shouldn't I?

"She might. There are still six weeks to the course."

For a moment Mac continues reading through the numerous golden plagues mounted to the blue board. "I don't see your name here, Mav."

"That's because I didn't win. They did." I point out the plaque reading the year 1986 and the names of Tom 'Iceman' Kazanski and Ron 'Slider' Kerner. How often had I pictured Goose's and my name next to this year?

I recall the day Goose told everybody that there were two o's in his name. We were that sure we would be the ones to win that it never even occurred to us that we mightn't. I also remember the day Ice and Slider finally got the plaque at our graduation party. I thought for hours beforehand if I should go there and finish with everybody else. Things just didn't feel right without Goose by my side. It took a lot of strength of mind to go. I was sitting in my room in my dress whites, all ready to go but kept starring at a picture of the two of us, searching in my head what I could have done differently. What finally made me go were Carole's words: "_He'd flown anyway without you. He'd have hated it but he would have done it._" It was our job. She knew it, I knew it. We were aware that something like this could happen, yet still when it happened to me it brought my world crashing down.

"I guessed that since you're here now you –"

"Something happened that let me doubt my abilities." I keep staring at the names of my comrades, pictures of the incident replaying in my head. I've never been able to stop them.

"You crashed." It's no question. I turn to look at the man beside me. I know this look, know the feelings behind it. He does understand it. Only a pilot having experienced the same would truly understand. And I see this complete understanding in his eyes now. Eyes that are clouded over lightly.

It is Mac who breaks the uneasy silence. "Court's in fifteen minutes," she softly tells us, her gaze resting on me first before it shifts to Rabb. It holds another form of understanding. She might not know how it feels but she at least knows how we suffer. And there is a pain in her eyes that I can't quite place. I can't say that it results from her knowledge of either myself or Rabb having experienced this or whether from a much closer encounter with the matter herself. Just another story worthy to learn about Sarah MacKenzie.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

The moment I open the door of the court room memories of my earlier life fade and I concentrate back on what I am now. A lawyer. A good lawyer that's about to argue a case. A case I intend to win.

Looking beside me I'm not so sure Mitchell is capable of doing the same thing he still seems lost in his painful past. Then again he has no other life. He is still a pilot. He's still facing the same risk each day.

The ride back here from the NSAWC building was completed in silence. I opted to join the Captain instead of Mac. So the both of us hung onto our own thoughts. Mine diverting between the rising flames of the fire of my ramp strike and the waves of the freezing waters of the Atlantic Ocean. It's odd seeing the brilliant orange mingle into the dull blue-grey and back again. I wonder if Mitchell still sees it happen like I do. I see every moment, every second and doubt that I'll ever going to forget these.

Once we sit down at our table Mac comes strolling over. She beat us driving here. Now she casually leans forward, her hands on the table so her head is close to mine, which means she doesn't need to raise her voice much.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her concern clearly audible in her voice.

"I am. Not sure about the Captain though."

"I'm alright," Mitchell answers his voice still somewhat distant.

The bailiff chooses this moment to call for attention and Mac returns to her own table giving both me and Mitchell a last once-over as if to make sure we've told her the truth.

"All rise."

During the minute it takes the judge to enter the room and proceed to his chair I turn my head to look at Mac. She does the same. I search for her eyes across the aisle and in one of our silent conversations that is for nobody to understand but us, I thank her for her caring. It feels good to have somebody caring for you and to admit that you actually need it at times. We only draw our eyes away when the judge is seated and we may as well.

"Since the prosecution closed her argument yesterday, is the defense ready to call their first witness?"

I rise again before I answer, "We are your honor." I watch the Marine guard open the door for our first witness.

The called Lieutenant quickly nods at Mitchell when he passes us by on his way to the stand. The moment he arrives at the bench Mac rises to swear him in.

"State your name, rank and current station for the record please."

"Lieutenant Barney Sammer, NAS Fallon, Nevada."

I remain standing at my place while I wait for Mac to finish her task. Once she settles back down I step up to resume her position in front of the witness stand.

"Lieutenant, right now you are a participant of the Top Gun classes of NSAWC?"

"Yes I am sir."

"And as part of that Captain Mitchell is your CO?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever have social contact with the Captain besides your training?" I slowly cross the open space back to the defense table.

"Other than the beer we had our first night here? No."

"Who are 'we'?"

"Ah, the whole group of pilots and all of the instructors. I think they wanted us to acclimate. Get to know each other." Sammer leans back in his chair, his cover resting untouched on his thigh, his hands casually placed on the armrests. He doesn't seem to have a problem being at the stand. He radiated an aura of confidence. If he was like that in the cockpit he must be one hell of a pilot.

"Where was that meeting?"

"At the O-Club, sir."

I walk back to stand right next to Sammer. "Was Lieutenant Reese with you that night?"

"Yeah, everybody was there," he answers now forced to look up at me.

"How did the Lieutenant acclimate?"

"Objection," I hear Mac's voice to my left and turn slightly to face her. "Witness can't know how Lieutenant Reese felt that night."

"I rephrase. Did the Lieutenant _seem_ to enjoy herself?" I watch her sit down before I once again turn my concentration back to my witness by the end of the sentence.

"Certainly. She was telling jokes and such. I'd say she was having a lot of fun."

"Was the Captain," I swiftly motion for Mitchell, "treating her any different?"

"That night sir?"

"That night and during the training."

"That night he certainly didn't. Nobody did. And as for the training, that's hard to say. The Captain treats all of us differently. He never makes the same move twice." A huge smile appears on Sammer's face that is directed straight at the Captain. Guess Mitchell found just another admirer.

Quickly changing the subject so Mac wouldn't see too much of this admiration and use it for her purpose I ask about Lieutenant Reese. "How is the Lieutenant doing up there during your training?"

"Objection. He is no instructor. The Lieutenant isn't qualified to judge her."

This time I don't turn for her but simply explain to the judge. "The earned points are common knowledge in the whole group. So Lieutenant Sammer is able to tell how good the Lieutenant is."

"Overruled."

"I guess she's doing fine," Sammer continues once the judge tells him so. "There are some of us who have fewer points." He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders to show it is no big deal.

"Do you feel like Lieutenant Reese is favored by the instructors?"

"I don't think so. She's complaining as much as we do."

"Thank you Lieutenant. Your Honor, I've no further questions." I walk back to my chair finally sitting down while Mac stands up again. She waits for me to fully pass her before she starts to speak though.

"Lieutenant, did Lieutenant Reese ever confirm that she hadn't any social contact with Captain Mitchell?"

"No ma'am she didn't."

"So there might have been meetings between the two. And you wouldn't know what happened there Lieutenant, would you?"

"No ma'am I wouldn't." Sammer casts a quick glance in our direction. It looked like he was getting uneasy facing Mac. I admit she can do that – make a man feel perturbed.

"You talked about the points Lieutenant Reese got. Do you have fewer points than her?"

"Objection. Relevance?" I throw in knowing pretty well where Mac wants to go with this question.

"I'd like to see. Overruled, the Lieutenant will answer the question."

"Aye, sir. Yes ma'am I do have not as many points as her." I realize that Sammer's voice dropped a little bit in volume, as if he feared to make a fool of himself.

"Lieutenant, do you admire the Captain?" So much for Mac not seeing the glance Sammer cast his CO.

"Ma'am?" He looks at her, lost at to what she wants to know and why. By now he started to play with the cover on his thigh and is no longer leaning back in his chair but forward instead.

"Do you admire the Captain's skills as a pilot?"

Sammer sighs audibly realizing that Mac didn't set him a trap. At least not a trap he would be aware of. But he'll soon be. I know what's to come.

"Yes I do. We can learn much from him."

"So with you admiring the Captain and having fewer points than Lieutenant Reese, wouldn't you be glad to help the Captain out of a difficult situation?"

"Objection. Lieutenant Sammer is not on trial here and the prosecution doesn't have any evidence supporting this."

"Sustained. Colonel, do you have any evidence for this accusation?"

"No sir. I don't have any more questions." Mac slowly walks back to her place, her head held high as if she'd just won her case. I know she at least had to try. I would have tried if I were at her place.

"The defense calls Rear Admiral Mike Metcalf."

I once again watch Mac swear the witness in before I begin. The Admiral's interview is pretty straight forward. I question him about how long he'd known the Captain; if he had ever seen him doing anything of what he was accused of now. Just the usual stuff you ask a reputation witness.

Mac for her part, asked about the way Mitchell had been, about the risks he took. Simply anything that might allow him to be a shadier figure than the one the Admiral had painting throughout my cross-examination.

When Mac finishes the judge speaks up. "It is almost noon. The court will be in recess until 1400."

"Sir, the defense rests. We won't call anymore witnesses." I could call more of the participants of the course but they won't reveal anything more than Lieutenant Sammer and I don't need the judge to hear that neither of them knew about the manner in which Captain Mitchell treated Lieutenant Reese.

"Alright. Then this court is adjourned until Monday morning 0900 hours. Court will read the verdict then."

"All rise," the bailiff calls once again and a shifting of chairs and feet accompanies the judge back into his room.

I gather all my papers and head after Mitchell, following him out of the room. Mac is already gone when we leave the court room. She is nowhere to be seen. I wonder where she went.

I turn to Mitchell to wish him a nice weekend before I go in search of Mac, when Sammer approaches us.

"Sirs."

"You were good up there, Lieutenant." At least he was until Mac started grilling him. But he did fairly well nonetheless.

"Thank you, sir. You will get the Captain cleared, won't you?"

"I'm positive about our chances."

"The Colonel did some good work today," Mitchell intervenes. Just when did he get that pessimistic about his case?

"So did we Captain."

"The Colonel's been giving you a hard time, sir."

"Actually she's been giving you a hard time, Lieutenant. It was you she was after. But she wouldn't be the excellent lawyer that she is, if she hadn't."

"No, sir." I can tell from his voice that he didn't believe my characterization of Mac's legal skills to be true. Some people just can't be helped.

A short period of silence settles over our little group. Just when I am about to dismiss the Lieutenant, Mac joins us from wherever she's been.

"Lieutenant," she greets friendly, her tone totally different from what Sammer faced in court.

"Ma'am. Permission to leave?" Suddenly he seems to be eager to leave.

"Permission granted." As highest in rank Mitchell dismisses him and we are left alone.

"What are we going to do with the rest of our day?" Mac's eyes are sparkling. She's ready to let the job be and get into a more relaxed mood. She doesn't even bother that the Captain is still standing next to us.

"Actually I need to look something up first." I see her shoulders drop an inch and the smile on her face shrinking a bit. I hate doing that to her but I had already made up my mind this morning about what I was going to do now. And I need to do it today. There is no way to get it done tomorrow.

"Alright."

"May I give you a lift Colonel? That way Rabb can keep your car." In a rapid motion my eyes divert from Mac to Mitchell. I'd better think about my task being that important. But before I can make up my mind Mac answers, "I'd appreciate that."

"But –" I start before Mac stops me with a glance that clearly tells, "How dare you. You were the one to turn me down."

"Alright. I wish you a nice weekend then Captain."

"Same to you," he returns when he starts to walk away from me.

Mac lingers for a moment longer. Finally she says, "See you when you're back." This time her eyes tell me a total different story from just seconds before. This time I find a reassurance in them that manages to suppress part of my fears. I remember her words from my jealousy attack – _besides, I wouldn't let him_ – when I keep staring after the two of them. I will my heart to trust her like my mind does.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

Silence. Total silence.

Neither I nor Maverick have said a word yet. I've not yet looked at him since we entered the car. My arm is propped up against the window, my head leaning onto my hand. I can feel the coolness of the glass against my temple although there is no physical contact. I keep staring at the scenery outside the base. The green and brown mingle in front of my eyes. The landscape is swimming by. My body vibrates along with the car, reflecting every bump of the road. I can hear my pulse beat intertwined with the roaring sound of the wheels on the bitumen.

It's an eerie silence.

I cast a secretive sidelong glance at the man next to me. He is concentrated on the street. A street that is almost deserted and running straight ahead. His hands are firmly placed in the top position of the steering wheel keeping a steady course.

I don't know what makes Maverick keep the silence up, but I damn well know what caused mine.

The way Harm looked at me just before I turned to head after the Captain. It was the same glance he gave me when I walked out of his door more than a year back to head off into Paraguay. I'm never going to forget that look. That look of despair and anxiety mixed with what I now would call love and caring. He just gave me that glance again. And here, I fear to talk to Maverick because of the memory of a past I thought fading.

I close my eyes to escape from the blurry vision of the outside world and the silence within the car when suddenly Maverick breaks our silence.

"Have you ever wondered why the two of us got along that well and that fast, Mac?"

I slowly open my eyes and turn my head to face him. When my eyes meet his he holds them for a moment before his turn on the road again. Staring at his profile I ask myself how I should answer. The last time I tried to explain our connection it didn't work out all that well. However, I don't want to lie to him either.

So bracing myself against his reaction I finally answer, "I don't know about you, but on my part it was probably because of Commander Rabb."

I push away from the window to regain a straight position in my seat, my every muscle stressed, anticipating his next words.

"Why is that? Did you want to prove something to him?" I've expected a variety of replies. That he might be embarrassed or hurt like Harm was, or that he would simply make fun of me – that he was nothing like Harm. However, his question is none of those yet still it reflects the answer to his first question, why we got along so fast. It feels like he could see right into my confused mind as if he'd known me for years and not days.

Did I want to prove something to Harm? Did I use Maverick to show Harm that I can find other friends? That there are others like him if he leaves me? No, there is no one else like Harm. I tried it before but returned to him in the end, always. There is no way to replace Harm in my life or my heart, I know that. And I never before thought that was the reason why I feel about Mav the way I do. It simply happened.

"No. It's just that you and Harm seem to have some things in common."

"I don't see that." For a moment his eyes divert from the street back onto mine. They plainly show the incredibility of my statement.

"You might not, but I'm sure your wife does. And when you look a little closer you'll find a few things yourself."

He shakes his head still not believing what he just heard. "So you chose me because I'm like the Commander?"

"I didn't choose you Captain. You were the one to occupy the empty seat next to me, not the other way round."

"Alright, I give you that. But still, did we get close because you saw another Rabb in me?" I'm not sure if there is hurt in his voice. I still have to learn to read his moods, he expresses them a totally different way than Harm does. A thing they don't have in common.

"Maybe. Because you are like him and because you aren't."

"Now that confuses me. Care to explain?"

In a swift motion I prop my elbows up on my thighs and drop my head into my hands. Once again closing my eyes I try to think about how I should explain. I still don't know what happened last Monday in the O-Club. And yet he is the third person to ask me about it.

Sitting back up I start to describe what might be the reason. "Harm and I have known each other for a while now. He's my best friend. I trust him. That is why I felt like I could trust you. In the way you just filled that stool you showed a natural caring I've only known from Harm so far. He would have done the same thing. Simply sitting there, expecting nothing in return. And then again, you seemed to be – I don't know how to say this – settled might be the proper word. That made it that much easier for me to trust you, to allow you beyond my walls – at least some of them. There were no struggles with you that let me fear to be pulled into them without the chance of ever surfacing again." I feel exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Believe me Mac, there are a great many struggles buried in my soul." His voice seems torn, torn from memories I guess, like his eyes when we stood at the trophy board.

His obvious despair makes me look back up and across to him. He is still concentrated on the street, his hands still on the top of the wheel. However his shoulders seemed to have sunken a bit.

"I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories this morning."

"It wasn't your fault, I often think of it when I cross the hall. That's why I sometimes use the back door just to avoid the thoughts."

We keep silent for a while, time for Maverick to cope with the past.

"These aren't the struggles I was talking about though. I know Harm got some of these as well and I do understand. I can deal with that. But there are other things neither he nor me seem to be able to muddle through."

"Is that why you never tried? Why it didn't work out, or whatever?"

"We've never even been involved."

"And you blame him?" Maverick now steers the car into a parking lot outside my hotel.

I wait a moment before I answer, watch him turn the motor off and finally face me.

"I blame him, I blame me. There were always complications."

"Are there any complications now?" His blue eyes seem to invade my soul in search for an answer.

I ponder his question – are there complications? There are no significant others in our lives, no life-threatening situation, neither of us are about to leave. There simply is nothing to keep us from taking the next step. Nothing besides "Us."

Maverick leans closer now, reaching his hand over the middle console. He takes one of my sweaty hands in his. His hand isn't as big as Harm's but still I feel totally wrapped up in his touch. His eyes search mine and lock with them. I can't tear my gaze away from the light blue iris.

"You will overcome this. Just trust in him, trust in yourself, but most of all trust in you as a couple. You two love each other and that's about everything that counts." His soft voice soothes my troubled soul and I'm glad I met such a man. Glad that I have been fortunate enough to count two such men as my friends.

"Thank you Mav," I whisper already leaning in to wrap my arms around him.

After a while we both pull away and settle back into our seats. This time the developing silence is no longer awkward but peaceful.

Mav is the first to break the calm again. "May I ask a personal question?"

"What have we been talking about?" I can't help but laugh a little on that. "Go ahead."

"When Rabb stated my crash I saw his eyes cloud over. I estimate he experienced something alike." With a soft nod I confirm his assumption. "But I found something similar in your eyes. What was it you experienced?"

"The night before my wedding I almost lost somebody I loved to an F-14 crash. I'm never going to forget that feeling. It felt horrible." Imagess of the downpour of rain re-emerge in my mind. The despair and hopelessness is back at full force, just as if Harm crashed all over again.

"Neither will I."

I lower my voice before I speak the next words. "What happened?"

Maverick takes a deep breath, bracing himself against the resurfacing memories for the second time that day. "We were on a training flight when we got into the downwash of another jet. I wasn't able to control the aircraft, we got in a downward spin and had to eject. My RIO hit the canopy roof. He was dead before he hit the water. He was dead when I held him in my arms until SAR arrived. I could do nothing about my best friend's death."

Taking his hand in mine I gently squeeze it. Now it's up to me to give comfort. Comfort by simply being there, when there are no words to take the pain away.

"What happened to your fiancé?" Mav finally picks our conversation back up.

"My fiancé?" I wonder what Mic had to do with all this.

"When he crashed the night before your wedding?"

"Oh. He didn't crash. He was right next to me."

"Oh." Slowly understanding dawns in his eyes. "What happened next?"

"My fiancé called off the wedding and left." It feels easier now to talk about it now that I've finally closed that chapter of my life.

"You don't seem to resent him for leaving."

"Not anymore. I now know he was right."

"So you've overcome obstacles already." I still hold Maverick's hand in mine, so he can easily run his thumb of the back of it.

"But one day there will be too many obstacles, obstacles we don't have the might to overcome anymore."

"You just have to believe in you. Then you'll always find the strength and the path might even clear."

"Let's hope so." I bend forward for a last hug before I finally get out of the car. "See you on Monday."

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

I continue to watch their backs until Mac and Mitchell vanish out of sight.

Mac and Maverick, Mac and Mav. It sounds odd, like Mac and Mic. I wonder whether the combination of names is any indication on how well two people fit together. Mac and Mic didn't fit, neither in names nor in character. But Mac and Mav might be just another story. What does the combination of Mac and Harm tell me then? Would people say we fit, or wouldn't they? Mac 'n' Harm, Harm 'n' Mac. It has a certain ring to it. And Sarah Rabb definitely has a beautiful sound. This finally manages to bring a smile on my lips. One day I promise myself. One day the time will come.

Still reveling in the pleasant thought, I hurry towards the flight of stairs and down to the floor below. I still need to accomplish my task. With long strides I cross the corridor to the personnel office. I hope they don't secure too early on Saturdays, so I wouldn't have rejected Mac for nothing.

When I open the door after a short knock I find the office empty except for a young female Ensign whose desk is positioned at the wall to my right.

"Excuse me Ensign. I'm with JAG and am looking for a file on a client." I cross the room and come to stand about two steps away from her desk.

"Yes sir. For whom are you looking?"

"Captain Pete Mitchell. Top Gun instructor."

"And you're his lawyer?" I have to give her that, she isn't easily tricked.

Stepping a little closer I prop my briefcase up on the edge of her desk and lean down a little.

"Here you go," I say handing her the sheet Mitchell signed making me his attorney. Good thing I carry it around with me. Spared me from having to talk her into this.

I watch her green eyes travel the lines of the contract before she turns back to her computer and starts hitting the keyboard.

With a beeping that sounds incredibly loud in the deserted office the printer jumps into action. It spills out page after page. Rushing past me in a swift motion the Ensign crosses the room to get me the file.

"That's it sir."

"Thank you, Ensign," I answer rewarding her with a smile.

She blushes a little. "No problem."

Still standing by her side I start to scan the contents of the file. Soon enough I hit the first passages marked classified. There no longer are whole passages made unreadable with a black bar but a single word stating 'classified'.

"Ensign, this file is classified."

She stands back up and bends her head so she can read the passage I'm pointing to. "It is."

"Do you have the full version?"

She hesitates for a moment, "No."

"But you know where you can find it." My voice dropped a little lower and I cast a full power smile at her, hoping it would do the charm.

"Sir, the declassified file is not available to the public. You're not allowed to read it."

"But I need it to defend my client properly." Hopefully she doesn't know that the hearing is already over, or as good as.

"You think it will help you?" I can see her squirm under my gaze.

"He is unjustly accused." Alright, this isn't a lie but it doesn't explain me needing the file either. However, this does the trick. She is giving in.

"Would you just wait by the printer, while I get it for you?"

"Sure." I hurry to get away from her to show I'm not interested in spying and am a good guy.

A second time the beeping of the printer startles me in the surrounding silence. This time twice as many pages are finally assembled in my hands. A lot of classified information for an instructor.

I cross the room back to the Ensign and my briefcase. Quickly storing the file in it I let it fall shut before she can change her mind.

"Thank you, Ensign," I state again. "You've helped me a lot."

She doesn't answer me verbally but nods instead. She's probably wondering how many laws she just broke.

"Have a nice weekend." Closing the door behind me, I let out a short breath.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

I open the court room door to find a surprised Commander Rabb looking at me. What is he still doing here? His eyes follow me as I walk towards him.

"I left…"

"… your mail," he finishes pointing to a stack of paper on the far corner of the table. "The bailiff handed it to me when I came back. I would have come by."

"Thank you." I walk around the defense table to pick up my mail.

Rabb still hasn't returned to reading, but keeps studying me it feels. His eyes have something that reminds me of a deer caught in the headlights. I wonder what he is reading. I tilt my head to the side trying to read overheads. But it is no good, so finally I ask.

"What are you reading?"

He drops his eyes from me back onto the table at last. They scan part of the papers spread around him, as if to reassure himself. "Hmmm. – Your file."

This is not an answer I expected but it sure would explain the look in his eyes when I entered the room. "Isn't that a bit late? The hearing is almost finished."

He hesitates again. "I got curious about you on what happened this morning." I get the impression there is something more about it.

"You could have asked me, you know." Like Mac did. Like everybody does once they find out. And although it isn't getting easier I'm at least used to answer the common questions.

"So, are you satisfied?"

"I realized we've got some things in common."

"What would that be?" He isn't referring to what Mac explained me about us being 'alike', is he? "Except the fact that we've both ejected once."

That takes him by surprise. "How do you know?"

"Don't tell me you didn't know before you read my file."

"Yeah, I suspected it."

"I could tell from your eyes. And Mac affirmed it on our way back," I explain.

"Alright. But you weren't quite correct. I ejected three times." He holds up three fingers to make sure I understand.

I walk further around the table and drop into my chair next to him. "You did."

"First time was when I hit the deck back in the early nineties. It was due to a sight failure, night blindness they said." For a moment he falls silent, for sure thinking about the incident. I don't bother to press him to go on. He would in his own time, if he wants to.

"The next was in Russia. We were shot at and our MiG went down."

"You've actually flown a MiG?"

"Yeah, pretty cool heh." A slight tone of amusement creeps back into his voice, banishing the dark thoughts into the back for a moment.

"The Russians let you fly it?"

"Actually Mac and I borrowed the jet. We paid for the ride though."

I'm sure my eyes are about to pop out of my head. And here I was thinking my stint with the MiG-29 was cool. "You've stolen a MiG and you even took Mac with you?"

"Hey, she wanted to come along. And I paid a lot of money for the ride. But the KGB wasn't happy about us being up there."

"So they shot you down. Why were you _borrowing_ a MiG anyway?"

"That's a long story."

On impulse I say, "I have time Commander."

He looks at me for a moment, lost at what he should say. Should he tell the story?

"I figure as I read your file you've got some right to hear something about me."

"Your MiG-story sure outruns mine big time."

"I didn't shoot down two in a dogfight." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was the one to get my six burned."

"That's classified. How do you know?"

"I have my sources. Though I don't get why it still is. The cold war's long over."

"Maybe they just forget about it. So how come you were in Russia – with Mac?" I add as an afterthought.

I see Rabb's eyes darken for a moment and his body slump a little further down his chair. He runs his right hand over his face, as if to get rid of something blurring his vision.

"I went in search of my father. I got word that he was transported form 'Nam to Siberia. Mac just followed…"

I clap my hand to my mouth as soon as I realize that there is just another thing the two of us have in common. But I can't keep the soft "Oh, my god," escape from my lips.

Rabb turns to face me.

"What is it?" His voice is soft. He sounds as if he might genuinely care.

I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it I long ago made my peace with it. At least I though I did. But right here in this empty court room the whole secrets and the indifferent feelings going along with my father's death come crashing back down on me. And yet, he might understand. He might be the one I could talk to.

"I lost my father in Vietnam as well. He was shot down November 5th 1965. We never learned what happened. Nobody told us. It was classified."

"Neither did my mother and I. My dad was shot down Christmas Eve '69. I learned bits and pieces from friends. My friends; my father's friends. I always believed in him to be alive. I wanted to believe. That's why we were in Russia, I needed to search for him, finally bring him home. Mac came with because she cared, because she knew that I was driven by emotion and would get myself killed. In the end I almost got her killed as well."

Even though I'm trying to struggle through my own emotions right now, I still register that his voice dropped just another level when he talked about Mac. But what interests me most, because it might give me some hope, is, "Did you find your father?"

For a long moment Rabb just stars ahead at the judge's bench. "Eventually. He is buried in the taiga. I don't know where."

I see his face contorted into a pained expression. A small tear slips from his eye and he quickly brushes it away, eager not to show his weakness. But I do understand him. He's got more than I have. I don't even know where my father died. Suddenly I feel uncomfortable on the wooden chair in the big, empty room.

"Let's take this some place else." I stand up gathering my mail while Rabb still doesn't move. "Commander, you're still with me?"

"Uh… yes. Where do you wanna go?"

"How about the O-Club? It's not that crowded around this time. We can have a beer or two."

"Sounds good to me."

We make our the way down to the street and across to the bar in silence, both pondering what to tell or ask next.

"Two draft beers, please." I order once the waitress comes to our table in the far back of the bar.

"So, are you going to fill me in on your experiences with MiGs?" Rabb asks after we've both kept silent for a while.

"Didn't you just read all about it?"

"I read that you shot down the two MiG-29's over the Indian Ocean and were rewarded a DFC. But I'm interested in how you came to meet two MiGs where there should've been none." He dropped his voice a little. After all this is still confidential.

"If truth be told, there were five."

"Five?" Now he's the one to stare at me with unbelieving eyes.

"Besides the two I shot down, Iceman – my wingman," I grin – he would get me for making him my wingman if he knew, "he shot down another and two took off."

"That's one hell of a mission."

"In fact I was only backup for that one. But when the Russians got one of ours down it was my turn. And guess what, just after my launch the cat broke. Both cats broke actually."

"Sounds like a bad movie."

"Yeah, or an overly patriotic one. However, that left only Ice and me up there. And Ice wasn't very happy with 5 MiGs at his tail. I hadn't much choice but to shot them down."

Only retelling these parts makes the whole mission sound relative easy. But I still recall the fight I fought on my way there. The sweat that pearled on my skin. How my vision became blurry. There were moments when I was about to turn around and wait for more of our jets to arrive. Moments when I was about to give in to the demons that threatened to overwhelm me. I can still hear Slider's voice calling for my intervention and my RIO's voice urging me on. Indeed it was their voices that made me realize that a F-14 cockpit wasn't made for four. That there was no place for either my dad, or Goose up there. That was when I could let go of them, at least as long as I was strapped in a super sonic jet.

My eyes meet Rabb's for a brief moment after I finish my story and resurface from the untold memories. This time they don't radiate understanding. I don't blame him for it, he can't know. Now his eyes are slightly shining, shining like all those pilots' eyes when you tell them of a successful air fight. I remember all of us; Ice, Slider, Hollywood and Wolfman – both were successfully rescued, and my RIO Merlin and I laughing and celebrating when we met back at the carrier. That was how we released our stress best.

"Guess the Russians weren't too happy." He leans forward, his elbows propped up on the table.

"Guess they weren't. They denied it even happened."

Suddenly Rabb sighs and immediately tells me why. "I doubt Russians ever gonna tell us the whole truth. Even though we're supposed to be friends."

"We're not exactly forthcoming either." Even though the cold war is officially over it doesn't mean nobody believes in it anymore. There are still secrets to be kept. "That's why you said you got help from some of your friends and some of your father's. They must have considerable influence if they can find out such things when neither the US nor Russia is giving something away easily."

"They have. Do you know any of your father's friends?"

"One. Admiral Metcalf. He flew with him. And he was the only one willing to tell me anything. But he didn't know much himself."

"I wouldn't have guessed."

Our beers arrive and we instantly reach for them. I need to drown the memories. We cling our glasses, "To friends."

"To friends," Rabb echoes me.

"When we talk as friends, how about you call me Pete or Maverick?"

"Alright. Harm." We cling our glasses once more.

Both of us take our time swallowing the amber liquid. Once I set mine down there is only about a third of it left. Harm's isn't much fuller either. I motion for the waitress to bring a second round.

"So friend, that brings me to your third ejection. It was near Mac's wedding, wasn't it?" I need to steer the boat into calmer waters.

"Did she tell you?"

I nod my head.

"What else do you know?"

"That you weren't the one to marry her, but you were the one she called the wedding off for."

His eyes fall onto the table, fixing on his glass. A pained expression crosses his face but is gone as soon as it arrived. This man has definitely got feelings for Mac, feelings that run deep.

"_He_ called it off, but yeah I'm probably the reason." He downs the rest of his beer.

"What happened then, after she was free again?"

He runs his finger of the rim of his empty glass creating a soft sound. "She ran. Asked for a TAD in the Indian Ocean. We just never figured it out."

Our next beers arrive and the waitress all but pulls the empty glass from his grip.

"Would you have stopped the wedding?"

"I've asked myself the same question over and over again. I don't know. But I wanted her to be happy. And if that should be with another man, so be it."

I finally empty my first glass. "You think you can live with that?"

"Yes." I see a soft shake of his head betraying his words as lies. "I don't want to lose her friendship. That is much too precious."

"So you'd rather hurt yourself and her. Harm I need to tell you this, in the end it'll cost you all."

"As if I didn't know it. We've been there before and only barely managed to not lose what we had. Back then, at her engagement party I though I was going to lose her forever. And only because I was too afraid of what might happen." He shakes his head and falls into a lengthy silence, every now and then sipping his beer.

After a while I walk over to the jukebox and feed it with some coins to press a few buttons.

Sweet tunes fill the room. Thankfully it isn't that loud in the bar as of yet. I lose myself in the melody of a song I haven't heard in years. But right now I need it. I need it because this one song brings me close to my father like 'Great Balls of Fire' got me closer to Goose.

"A singer once told me that on the night she met my father a sailor on board the Ticonderoga sang this song spontaneously," Harm finally breaks out of his memories.

We both hum along with the second stanza of Otis Redding's 'Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay'.

About two hours later we finally part, after having talked about several more things we share, and some we don't.

"So Mac was right indeed. We have some similarities."

"She told you?"

"Yeah, when I asked why she got along with you that well. I didn't understand back than. But now I do."

"You were jealous because of me?" I can't suppress the grin that wants to appear on my lips.

A smile forms on his face as well. "I'm not admitting anything."

"Harm, take the chance," I advise him when we shake hands at his car. "You both deserve it."

"I'll try."

"Let me know tomorrow how it went."

"Tomorrow? We won't be seeing us before Monday, and that's the day after."

"I just decided to invite the both of you for a little BBQ. How about 1600 tomorrow?"

"We'll be there." With that he enters his car.

Rolling down his window he adds, "But I can't promise anything."

"Do it. That's an order."

His voice is repeating my joking tone when he answers, "Aye, aye sir," and salutes me.

Maybe something good came of the day after all.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

* * *

Thanks for all of your reviews. There I was thinking nobody read this and then I got loads of reviews. Keep it up. ;)

BTW: Has anybody an idea as to what Admiral Boone did throughout the 10th season? Did he still work for the SECNAV or did he retire?


	5. The Simple Things You Do To Me 1

**A/N:** Two months since the last update? Oops. But real life got in the way, with no way bypassing it. And to top it all, my beta's computer crashed eliminating all betaed chapters. (So anybody interested in doing her job for a while?)

Thanks for all your reviews encouraging me to go on. Hope you still enjoy this story.

So here it goes…

* * *

**Recap from chapter 4:**

_"Harm, take the chance," I advise him when we shake hands at his car. "You both deserve it."_

_"I'll try."_

_"Let me know tomorrow how it went."_

_"Tomorrow? We won't be seeing us before Monday, and that's the day after." _

"I just decided to invite the both of you for a little BBQ. How about 1600 tomorrow?"

_"We'll be there." With that he enters his car._

_Rolling down his window he adds, "But I can't promise anything."_

_"Do it. That's an order."_

_His voice is repeating my joking tone when he answers, "Aye, aye sir," and salutes me._

_Maybe something good came of the day after all._

**  
-The Simple Things You Do To Me (Part 1)- **

We both spent last night in our own beds, but I carefully saw to it that neither of the doors between us was closed. So now that I have woken, I'm able to watch Harm sleep in the other room.

Careful not to wake him, I get up, for a moment lingering in front of my bed while I lightly lean against the wall to take in the peaceful sight. Drawing my gaze away I walk to my bathroom to get ready for our day off. We've not yet planed to do anything, but it's a beautiful spring day with the sun already shining brightly.

When I return my eyes divert into Harm's room automatically. What I discover takes my breath away for a split second. He's now lying on his side facing my room. His head is propped up on his hand. He hasn't bothered to draw his blanket back up, so I see the waistband of his boxers. He must have waited for my return. His eyes are shining bright and are focused totally at me. Paralyzed I watch him get out of bed before I can even find my voice to say anything.

When he starts coming towards me I finally manage "Morning Harm."

He doesn't answer but crosses the remaining distance between us with four easy strides. And without so much as a warning his mouth is suddenly firmly pressed on mine. To my surprise I find myself responding to his kiss.

My mind starts to drift. We must be an odd sight. Still standing a foot apart, arms dangling by our sides and only our mouths connected in a sweet kiss. It lingers no longer than a few seconds before Harm withdraws his lips from mine. I immediately snap back to reality and watch him take a step back, eying me cautiously for my reaction. He is giving me a way out.

Do I want a way out? How should I react? My head is spinning with emotions, with possibilities, with consequences. It's spinning from a fear that's gripping my heart. But the fear that a relationship would affect our work is the least of my worries right now. Neither is it the fear of anybody finding out about us, we would work through this. What I fear most is the fact that being with Harm, taking this one step now – or ever – would mean that I would have to tear down all of my so carefully built walls. I would have to allow myself to become vulnerable, a thing a Marine isn't. I would have to be willing to risk my feelings.

But haven't I done this for years, ever since I met him? Day by day, year by year I've been giving away parts of me to him. And am I not holding pieces of him in my heart already, even though we aren't lovers yet?

When I still haven't said or done anything after what seems an eternity to me he softly says, "Good Morning, Mac."

I all but waited for him to call me Sarah. I had the feeling that he was about to say it – that he should have? But if he had, I would have immediately melted into his arms, damn all the consequences. My name from his lips can do that to me – if only he knew.

Taking a breath I finally force my mind to formulate an answer, a reaction. "You've never greeted me like this before."

"But I could get used to it." His voice is just a little on the husky side and his smile just slightly seductive. He is holding his ground and not backing off. His stance is firm and he holds his body straight. There is no hint that he might be uncomfortable facing me in his boxers when I'm fully dressed. He doesn't seem to mind. Only his eyes give away the slight insecurity that's probably resulting more from waiting for my response than anything else.

I could get used to it myself. I still feel the texture of his lips on mine. "It'll look rather strange in the middle of the bullpen back at JAG." I can't concentrate properly with my eyes wandering off to his chest and the soft black hair covering it.

"Maybe the bullpen shouldn't be the first place for us to meet in the mornings then." I could get used to this tone of his voice as well. It makes my body tremble.

"What are you trying to say?" I have to ask. I need to hear it even though there is no way of misinterpreting his last statement.

"Let's try." He takes the step that separates us and places his hand on my cheek. His touch is as soft as our kiss has been. His eyes search out mine, bore into my soul. They radiate the answer to my next question before I can even voice it.

"Try what?"

"Us." There is a certainty in his tone that lets me think I don't have a choice about it. And frankly, right now I don't want one.

But still I wonder what made him take this step. "You just wake up one morning and –" I snap my fingers to emphasize my next words, "- out of the blue decide we should give it a try?"

His hand drops from my face and at once I long for his touch to return. Instead he takes both my hands in his, tenderly running his thumbs over the back of my hands.

"You know I've wanted it for a while. But you weren't ready, I accepted that, gave you the time you wanted."

"But now you think the time is up? That you can't wait any longer," I interrupt.

"I'd wait forever if I could get you in the end Mac." He squeezes my hands to make sure I believe in his words. I do believe. I ache to believe in what he said. All my future happiness depends on me believing in his words.

"But I realized one thing last night. That we are both too afraid of what might go wrong to believe in what would be right, what would feel right. So, one of us has to take the first step. I believe we can take the chance Mac, but only if we trust in us."

Mav's words come drifting back into my mind. _'Just trust in him, trust in yourself, but most of all trust in you as a couple.'_

I need to ask, "What made you realize that?"'

"Actually talking to Mav did. He'd finally put my head straight."

I realize the change in Harm's reference to Mav. Never before had he call him Maverick, let alone Mav. So the Captain must have made a deep impact on Harm. He sure had on me.

"So what do you say?" Anticipating my answer once more Harm lifts up both our hands and places them against his chest. His bare chest.

"Okay."

"That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say sailor." My voice just dropped a few levels.

He shrugs his shoulders, a sheepish grin appearing on his lips. There is nothing more he'll hear for an answer.

My voice is nothing more than a whisper when I say, "Maybe I shouldn't say anything then," right before I reach for his head and softly pull it down towards me.

"I like this answer even more." I feel his smile against my lips seconds before they meet his. This time in a kiss, one that not only our mouths but all of our bodies partake in.

My hands start roaming over his upper body, trailing his sides with my fingers. Harm's hands aren't doing much else. They soothingly stroke my back. Make me relax and keep me firmly pressed against him. When we finally have to part for air his one hand is gently resting on the small of my back while the other rests against my side, his thumb brushing against the underside of my breast. The touch is barely there, his movements slowed down a hundred times. But the pricking of my skin and the novelty and pleasantry of his touch tell me that it is. And though Harm's new explored freedom is occupying most of my brain cells there is still enough room to make my own explorations of his body. Both my index fingers are hooked under the waistband of his boxers, moving in lazy patterns. It is highly electrifying finally doing something that has been forbidden for so long. The rest of my fingers linger on his bare back still feeling the play of his muscles whenever he moves the tiniest bit.

A single thought shoots through my mind. If I weren't already hopelessly in love with the man, I would fall for him instantaneously, if only to feel what I feel now. I've known before how it feels to be in his arms, how it felt to feel his chest rising beneath my cheek. I know every insignificant change in the way it felt over the years, from the stone hard six-pack it was when he was tense, to the soft but strong way when he was holding me for comfort. I always felt safe there. But now it is different. Now that I allow myself to run my hands everywhere I want without lying to myself about the reason why. Having leaned back slightly we now rest our foreheads together, eyes locking underneath.

"Wow," we speak in perfect unison before we both start to grin broadly. If this kiss and our past is any indication our relationship will be a wild ride.

"What do you wanna do today?" He rubs his nose against mine like the Eskimos do.

"Stay here?" I answer placing a tender kiss on his nose before he can draw it away.

"All day?"

"Mhmm." It feels much too good to move, not now, not ever.

"We can't."

"We can't?"

"No. We've got a date at 1600." I must be looking at him totally confused. "Mav invited us for a BBQ. You won't decline a juicy steak, would you Marine?"

Puh, hard question. Right now I would say I could be living on love and air alone. But obviously my stomach thinks differently as it produces an audible growl.

"Guess not," I give in at last. "And you better get ready for breakfast, flyboy."

"You'll have to let go of me first," he answers but doesn't loose his hold on me either.

Instead of a reply he gets a second growl.

"Alright. I'll hurry." He drops a quick kiss on my lips before he turns back for his own room.

Once his form vanishes into his bathroom I take a step backward and drop down on my bed, an idyllic smile spread on my lips. I pull my knees up on the bed and against my chest hugging my arms around me, imagine it were Harm's. My mind is still not functioning, I'm only sitting there staring at the door waiting for his return.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

The sun is already shining brightly onto the earth, leveling the temperature above the usual 57 degrees. My hands rest atop the steering wheel, my fingers drum the steady rhythm of the music that wavers through the car. Mac must have turned the radio on while I was at the supermarket buying our lunch. Grinning, I remember her disappointed face when I asked her to wait for me in the car. I didn't want to spoil the surprise, but she has always been a little impatient. Her face lit up when I told her that she could request for one item that I would bring back.

'Chocolate cookies' was her answer.

I happily bought two packs of them.

I try to concentrate on the street ahead but my mind always wanders off to the woman next to me. Eyes fixed on the gray of the asphalt I listen to her whistling softly to the song. With the song and her whistling invading my ears and proceeding to my heart, I can say that I truly feel at peace right now. When I can't reframe myself any longer I start watching Mac from the corner of my eye.

She leans back in her seat looking totally relaxed. Her right arm rests at the door pressed against the window. Her fingers are drumming the beat of the music along with mine. Her nails make a soft clicking sound against the glass. Her other hand is tucked under her right thigh. My gaze is drawn to her delicate neckline. I can see the muscles play under her olive skin whenever she moves her head only slightly to let her eyes follow something she saw passing by. Her head is turned towards the window but I can still see the smile that lingers on her lips. My eyes travel over the rest of her body, along her arm that is covered with the light black jacket she choose, over the small spot of red that is revealed of her shirt just above her hip where her arm passes by only to vanish under her thigh. I continue down her legs, clad in light blue jeans. She wears her jogging shoes, the only ones she brought that are proper for where we're headed.

I see all these little things in the few seconds my gaze diverts from the street to her. I wonder how it would feel if I just drop my hand and let it rest on her thigh. I'm now allowed to show these little signs of affection, aren't I? So I do just that and fixing my eyes on the dusty street I lay my hand on her leg – in the middle between her knee and the place where it joins her hip. She doesn't twitch from my touch. From the corner of my eye I see her turn her head slowly towards me, the smile still in place. Diverting my eyes from the currently empty street to her I answer with a smile of my own. Not a word has been spoken. The only sound now is the music and the roaring of the wheels competing with the steady rhythm of my heartbeat.

After a moment I let my glance switch back to the street. That's when her hand comes to rest on mine, still warm from its secured place.

"What did you buy?" It's the first time she asked, obviously trying to be patient but losing the battle with herself.

"You'll see." I try to stay concentrated on the street ahead.

She starts to trace my fingers with her smaller ones, places them atop of mine, then slips them between them and withdraws her hand to start the routine from the beginning. She sends sensations up my arm with each of her touches.

Then she asks another question, "Where are you taking me?"

Still not turning my head I take a hold of her hand and softly squeeze it. "I'm not gonna tell."

"Please."

This time I make the mistake and cast a quick glance at her. And immediately the look on her face draws me in and won't let me loose. Her lower lip is slightly pushed forward. She bats her eyelashes rapidly at me. I can lose myself in this glance, and she knows it. We're together for what – two hours – and she already has me wrapped around her little finger.

"One hour thirty-three minutes." Alright, one hour thirty-three minutes, but that doesn't help me any. I'm only falling deeper for her, and quickly so.

Gently pulling my hand away from her hold to steer us trough the next bend I let her wait for another moment already knowing I would give in.

"Berlin- _ESH-thee-oh-soar_ State Park"

"Where?"

I repeat, again struggling with the damn dinosaur's name. Why do they always have to use Greek or Latin words for them? Can't they come up with something English?

Mac is still lost as to where we're headed. But this very moment we pass a sign indicating our turn and I motion for her to look. 'Berlin-Ichthyosaur State Park'. Thank heaven for signs.

"Oh," she tries to stifle the bubble of laughter that's rising in her throat, but it comes out anyway. "You mean Berlin-_ICK-thee-oh-soar_ State Park."

"Hey, not everybody is a pro like you."

Mac now turns in her seat so her shoulder leans against the back and she is facing me. "How much longer?" she asks, while her hand copies my earlier motion and comes to rest on my thigh softly pressing it.

"Uh – some forty minutes," I answer, desperate to not get too lost in her touch.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

"Mac over here. I've found another of the dinosaurs," Harm calls from about 30 feet ahead of me. He must have wandered off while I still examined the last fossil we came across.

This park is paradise for me. The State Park hosts some of the largest specimens anywhere on the world – at least that's what it said on the sign at the entrance. I never even knew this place existed, but trust Harm to know about it.

I hurry to catch up with him and arrive just in time to hear a young boy of about 12 years launch into a lecture on the fossils.

"Actually Sir, the Ichthyosaur wasn't a dinosaur. It was a reptile. It was specialized for the life in the ocean and build for speed. Do you see these paddles…" The boy points them out for Harm and me to see. But right now neither Harm nor me are watching. Harm looks straight at the boy a totally dumbfounded expression on his face. I guess he can't believe that he was just lectured by a little boy. I can't help but snigger on his expression. He just looks too cute.

Hearing me snort, Harm turns to face me. "You knew that, didn't you?" he says and I literally hear his silent addition, 'And you still let me make myself a fool.'

"Yeah, I knew." I'm still giggling over his face, which has taken on the hurt expression of a little boy. "But never mind, for me it's not important if you can tell them apart." What is important to me is that he came here with me because he knows I'd love it. I give him my most thankful smile and am graced with his lips forming into a smile as well.

From a distance the boy's words begin invading my mind.

"Ichthyosaur means fish lizard. Their shape is like those of modern 'high speed' fishes like tunas. They normally ate any fish they found or squid-like creatures."

With my last sniggering only just subsided I burst into another fit of laughter.

"What now?"

I try to calm down for a second to answer him but barely manage. So my words are coming out in short intervals mixed with laughter. "You realize that the boy just said that the Ichthyosaur ate ancestral squids for breakfast, didn't you?" Another series of laughter ripples through me.

"So?" He turns around and stalks away playing the peeved little boy. I have to say that he's pretty good at that. "I'd better go back to the hotel and wait for 1600 to arrive. Guess I'm not needed here."

I sober up immediately and start to dash after him. When I finally pass him and come to stand in front of him, I put my hand on his chest to stop him.

"Please don't go. I'm sorry." I'm totally sincere now.

"I thought it would be fun – for both of us – to come here."

"Harm, I'm really enjoying this, but only as long as I'm with you." I place a sweet kiss on his lips. Oh how I love that we are now able to share these in public; that I no longer need to mask my feelings. Alright, maybe not in the general public, but at least here and when we're out of uniform.

"Okay, then let's continue. There are still numerous fossils and the old ghost town to explore." Harm takes my hand that is still resting against his chest. Breathing a sigh of relief I let him drag me along behind him, leaving the boy alone with the fossil. He doesn't seem to mind.

One and a half hours later we stand at another of the stony remains. I explain bits and pieces of what I know and what we see.

"The ichthyosaur gave birth to live, well-developed young. It is thought they never left the water. Yet still they breathed air and lacked gills, kind of like modern whales and dolphins – to which they are not related."

My hand still rests in Harm's. This way I'm making sure he's not going to leave me. I drag him around the fossil to have a look from another perspective.

"See the paddles with which they swam." I kneel down to place my hand on one of the forefins. I feel him lowering down beside me. "They have the same basic plan as your hand and arm," I spread my fingers, placing them next to the visible bones of an animal died millions of years ago. "But the arm bones are very short while the fingers are much longer because they have developed more bones than the three you and I have in our fingers."

"Mhmm."

"Are you still with me Harm? Or is this boring you to death." I tilt my head to the side to have a better look at him.

For a moment he seems to ponder his answer before he shrugs his shoulders, "I like when you are enjoying yourself and I'm getting into it. But it would help to know where the back and front of these things are." A sheepish grin lingers on his face now.

"Oh."

For the first time I look at the fossil in front of us the way Harm must be seeing it. For someone not accustomed to paleontology it could be a little difficult to tell the tail from the head

"That's the tail." I stand up, forcing him to do the same and walk over to the long tail. "See, the spine runs along it nearly all the way to its end. And over there's the head. The big donut there, that's the eye."

"That's quite a big one."

"They've found Ichthyosaurs with eyes that were between 200 to 250mm in diameter as far as I know."

After taking my time to study the structure of the bones I pull Harm on to the next. Silently he walks beside me.

"Penny for your thoughts." I stop and he nearly bumps into me.

"Ah – I was thinking about Red Rock Mesa and the prints you and your uncle showed me. It was the first time I ever saw something like that."

"Did I ever thank you for helping Uncle Matt?" I inch a little closer remembering our first case like it was yesterday.

"About a hundred times right there and occasionally after the trial," Harm answers smiling.

"So one more time would do no harm."

"Guess not."

And with that I close my lips on his. This time the kiss is much more passionate than our first public one. It's a good thing there aren't that many people around right now.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

"Let me see what you got." Mac settles down on the blanket we spread on the edge of the picnic ground where the clearing meets the trees. Her legs are tucked beneath her, her eyes on the backpack that lies to my right.

Slowly opening the bag and starting to fish through it, I say "Alright," stretching the word as much as possible to prolong the moment.

I pull out a package of bagels first. All of them are already made with diverse spreads and green salad. Next are four small bottles of water, followed by one package of Mac's cookies. My eyes switch to her when I present the sweets and just as I expected, her eyes shine a little brighter. Good to know with what I can please my Marine. Chocolates and dinosaurs.

After a while our buffet is complete with a huge ensemble of fruits. We have almost every fruit I found in the supermarket. With the upcoming barbeque tonight I wanted this lunch to be light and maybe my healthy side took reign a tad too much while shopping. But I don't think Mac does mind.

"This looks absolutely delicious Harm." No she doesn't mind.

"Help yourself," I say indicating that the buffet is now open.

But instead of reaching for any of the things spread out in front of her, Mac wraps her arms around her body and starts rubbing her arms lightly.

"Are you cold?"

"It's a bit chilly."

She is right, while it's warmer than usual in the sun, the shadows still hold on to the last chills of the night. I slip over to lean against the tree whose branches are hollowing over us.

"Come here." I pat the blanket between my legs.

For a moment I see uncertainty in Mac's eyes before she makes up her mind and comes crawling over. Her back fits against my chest as if it's made to always be there. I wrap my arms around her. Mac pulls her arms free from beneath my hold and places them on my knees which I pulled up to shade her from the cold a little more. For a few moments we revel in the situation. I feel absolutely comfy in this place, could sit here for hours to come.

"Better now?"

"A lot. Thanks for bringing me here Harm, I love this." Her head moves slightly on my shoulder. She tries to take in as much of the scenery as she could.

"What?"

"You know, the landscape, the view and…" she hesitates for a second then continues. "And the way your arms feel around me."

"Same here." I place a kiss on her hair that brushes against my cheek. "Now let's eat, before the ants start to dine on our lunch."

Mac slaps my knee for that, "You're such a romantic. But you're right. So what do you want?"

"For a start the water would be fine." Reluctantly I loosen my hold on her so she can lean forward and get the wanted item.

When she does I can't help but run my hand down her back. The moment my hand makes contact she arches her back against my hand and I swear I can hear a soft kitten sound coming from her. I have to remember that. I make my way down so my hand now rests on her hip Mac leans back again; one hand wrapped around my water bottle while the other holds a bagel.

"Thanks."

We continue lunch in an enjoyable silence.

After we're done and only a small amount of fruit is left of our lunch Mac suddenly asks, "Did you start smoking again?"

"No, why?"

"I smell tobacco."

"Must be the new aftershave." Her head moves somewhat as I shrug my shoulders. "Do you like it?"

Her voice sounds as if she's lost deep in her thoughts. "Mhmm."

And then she does something no woman has ever done to me before. She kisses the underside of my chin, right there on the soft flesh where my neck meets the chin. The feeling is so unexpected I gasp for air. Her lips feel warm on my skin. When she withdraws her mouth – much to my dismay – her nose brushes against the same spot her lips were moments before. The breath escaping through her nostrils makes me shiver. It feels cold against the still wet spot of skin.

Mac settles her head back against my shoulder while I wait for the sensational feeling to subside and my senses to concentrate back on the present. Finally I decide to lean down to tease her with a kiss of my own. But midway I realize that while the time passed, Mac closed her eyes and her breaths are now coming slow and even. Fossil hunting must have tired her out. So instead of the passionate kiss I planned, I place a light one on the corner of her mouth before I rest my head back against the tree.

I stare off into the distance not really seeing anything when happy children's laughter captures my attention. I divert my eyes to two blonde kids – a boy and a girl. They are about AJ's age, maybe a little older. I picture myself as the proud father of two of them. I long to have a family and I want it with Mac. I've known it for a while – been sure about it ever since Mattie asked me if I love Mac. But only Mav made me realize that I should take the step or else nothing might change. I'll have to remember to thank him tonight. And it doesn't really matter how we're going to have this family, I'd happily raise any kid with Mac.

My eyes follow the young boy who's on the way to his parents. That's where both kids got their looks from – their father. The woman sitting at the table and now engulfing the boy in her embrace has brown hair, a lighter shade than Mac's. However, the man sports the same light blonde hair his kids have. And this moment I find myself thinking that I would love to have the promised child from five and a half years back. A boy with Mac's looks and my brains or a girl with my looks and her brains. I know that this might never happen but still, a child inheriting Mac's genes – and mine – would be just a tiny bit more special. Instinctively I rub my hand up and down Mac's arm. We're going to try as long as there's still a chance. I've yet to break a promise and this one's far too precious to be the first. The more so as I know that Mac wants this as well.

The kids stared to roam the picnic ground anew. I realize they are coming my way.

"Hi," the girl says when she and her brother come to stand before me.

"Hi," I reply my voice quiet not to wake Mac but holding a smile for the children. "Are you twins?"

"Yeah, we're six," the boy answers proudly.

"Friends of mine are going to have twins soon."

Their mother chooses this moment to join us. "I'm sorry. I wasn't watching for a second and off they were." An apologetic smile forms on her lips.

I return her smile. "I know how these things can happen."

"You've got kids yourself?"

"Not yet." A picture of a brown haired blue eyed baby rises in my mind. "Only two godsons," I say returning to reality.

"We'd better get going." The woman places a hand on each of her children starting to turn them around.

"Ma'am, would you and your family like some of the fruit? We won't eat it anyway and it would be a pity to throw them away."

"That's very kind of you." Then she encourages her kids to take whatever they like before she kneels down to pick some fruit for her husband and herself.

"What do you say?" she asks her children and I'm rewarded by a chorused "Thank you."

This moment Mac stirs and opens her eyes.

"Sorry for waking you. And thanks again." With that she finally turns around and the family heads back to their table.

"Hi sleepyhead."

"I fell asleep on you, didn't I?"

"Yeah," I grin. I loved having her sleep in my arms. I always have.

"How long?"

I check my watch. "Twenty minutes maybe." It didn't feel like twenty minutes to me. Time felt as though it was speeding up and slowing down simultaneously. It felt like hours passed while we sat here and I listened to her steady breathing and the birds chirping above. And in the mean time I always feared everything would be gone all too soon. That short moments like these were all I would get. That Mac and I couldn't last. That I was holding onto a thing that's due to pass any moment now. A thing I can't keep no matter how desperately I wanted to.

"Do we have to go soon?"

"We can stay a little if you like."

"I'd like that."

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

"I think I'm going to take a bath, get rid of this dust," I tell Harm once we enter my room. "Just make yourself at home," I add when I watch him settle down on my bed, propping the pillow up to the wall.

"Just going to wait till you return. Can't wait to see you in the little blue towel." A strange grin spreads on his lips. Just what is he talking about?

"Heh?"

"Oh nothing. Just go ahead. I'll still be here when you come back." He waves me off with his hand and leans back against the pillow closing his eyes. That grin still playing around his lips.

So the first thing I do, even before turning the water on, is to check on the towels. They are white and huge. I could wrap them around my body twice if I wanted to. So how the heck did he come up with a little blue one?

Still shaking my head I finally turn the hot water on and settle on the edge of the tube. It has been the most wonderful day in a long while. Thinking back to this morning I pull off my shoes, absentmindedly rubbing my aching feet. This can't be really happening, can it? It still feels like a dream. On impulse I open the bathroom door slightly and call, "You still there?"

"Mhmm," comes the sleepy reply.

Good. I close the door again, for a moment reveling in the light fog that began to build from the hot water. Time to cut back the temperature a little.

At last I slip into the warm water, letting the soft bubbles play around my body. A sigh escapes my lips. Leaning my head back against the tube I close my eyes and start to relax. For about twenty minutes I just lie there, my body soaking in the warm water, my nostrils filled with the light rose scent of the bubble bath and my mind bare from any worrying thoughts. I slip in a tad deeper, the water now playing around my chin and rising up to my ears when I move slightly. I could stay like this for hours.

When I open my eyes I find something I didn't quite expect.

Just above my head, where my eyes meet the ceiling hovers a spider. It just sits there and doesn't move. I try closing my eyes again, to sink back into my own little world where no spiders exist. But it is no good. My eyes snap back open after not even a minute and search out the spider. It still hasn't moved. I don't have a thing against spiders. I'm normally the one who captures them and sets them free somewhere else, or just lets them be. I'm willing to do that now as well. Silently I whisper, "I don't attack if you don't attack first." That settled I sink a little deeper into the water. But suddenly the spider starts moving. It takes one step towards me. I wonder if it is possible for one to think in terms of 'one step' when it uses four legs to take it. Oh perfect, now it's lowering itself from the ceiling. Carefully, I watch its every move. For a moment we both remain dead calm, neither of us moving. Then the spider comes down a little further.

Okay that's it. I'm going to get out. There is just no fun in sharing a bubble bath with a spider.

"You've won," I tell the spider while I wrap myself into the fluffy towel.

I lean down to pull the plug. "But if I can't have it, neither can you."

Head held high I walk out of the bathroom, leaving the spider for the cleaning personnel in the morning. I don't care.

"Hey, that was pretty fast," Harm says, once I stand next to him. He gives me a once over. "Cute."

"Gee, thanks. And it just wasn't as good as at home. Besides, thanks to you it's already late anyway."

"Thanks to me?" He clasps his hand against his chest not believing it is his fault that it's already well past three and we still need to get dressed – and he showered for that matter.

"YES. We already discussed that back at the State Park, it was your fault we lost the track."

_"Harm, do you know where we are?" I asked when we stopped in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. We had walked up and down little slopes for nearly forty minutes now._

_"Yeah sure. The way's over there." He scanned our surroundings and finally pointed in a direction that was almost the same as the one we came from._

_"How can you get lost in a Park where there's a sign on each and every track?"_

_"I didn't get lost. You get us lost," he said now pointing his finger towards me._

_I playfully whipped down his hand. "How has this become my fault?"_

_"Do you remember telling me that the Navy's only purpose is getting the Marines to wherever they wanna be? I got you to this park. Now it's your turn, you're the landing party." He grinned, confident he made his point and I've had no choice but to admit it._

_But damn it, I wasn't the one who wanted to leave the track because he wanted to show me how beautiful the plain looked from a little hill. Though I had to admit it was an awesome sight._

_"Alright, but you have to keep up with me first." With that I pulled my hand free from his and started to run off in a randomly chosen direction. I didn't know where we are anymore than he did._

_"Mac!"_

_I speed up and ran through a cluster of young trees, further on towards the bigger ones._

_I could feel him come nearer. His hand already touched my back. Then he got me trapped against a tree._

_"Gotcha, Marine." Both his hands were firmly placed against the trunk of the tree next to my shoulders. A huge smile lingered on his features. He had as much fun as I had._

_"No you don't," I laughed, ducking under his arms. I hurried out of his reach but not without lightly slapping his six. I'd wanted to do that for quite awhile._

_Looking back during my run I saw him standing there a little perplex before he composed himself and set after me._

_Not long after he had me trapped again. This time he was smarter, he had taken a hold of my shoulders now, softly pressing them against the tree. I could feel the bark through my jacket and shirt._

_"This time you can't get away."_

_"What if I don't want to?" I answered my voice dropped to a whisper._

_"You don't want to?" He leaned closer, his mouth now almost touching my ear._

_"No."_

_Harm started nibbling at my ear, while his hands moved down my shoulders and traveled along my arms until they took a hold of my hands. I began kissing his cheek, his jaw line, plainly everything within my reach. My hands reached up to his chest, his still clinging onto them. So when we finally turned our heads and our mouths came to touch, both our hands rested between his chest and mine._

_Children's laughter broke our passionate kiss. Shyly I turned my head and one glance told me we've found the way. Feeling the blood rise into my cheek I hurried to burry my face against Harm's chest. A whole group of girl scouts stood watching the two of us, giggling uncontrollably. How much more embarrassing could it get?_

_"You two should head further into the wood for that," their adult leader finally said before she herded the group further down the track._

_When they were gone, vanished around a bend, Harm started to laugh irrepressibly as well. After a second I joined him. You just have to laugh about this._

_"At least we found the way," he said after managing to calm down a little._

_"I did actually."_

_"Alright, you did."_

_"Yeah and you lost the way."_

_"Whatever you say. Come on lets get going." He placed a quick kiss on my lips before he pulled me back on track._

"So, you agreed that it was your fault."

"I can't be held accountable for that. I couldn't think straight."

"Oh, and why was that?" I ask even though I could have said the same for myself.

"Someone was distracting my mind."

"Never knew you'd be the type to fall for girl scouts."

"I'm full of surprises." His eyes are sparkling full power now.

I take a step closer to the bed and hold my hand out for him. He takes it and lets me pull him from the bed into a standing position in front of me.

"You better get going now, so this girl can get dressed." I softly push him in the direction of the door.

"You gonna wear the girl scout uniform?" he asks like a little boy asking for another ice cream.

"You'll see." With that I shove him through the door and close it behind him. What I wear will be a surprise.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-


	6. The Simple Things You Do To Me 2

**-The Simple Things You Do To Me (Part 2)- **

Alright, now it's official. We're going to be late. I probably should have saved us some time and showered while Mac took her bath. But the prospect of her emerging the bathroom with nothing but a towel had me glued to the bed.

Mac will chew my six for being late, I can already hear her scolding me about it again with this slightly mocking voice. Unwillingly, I have to smile at the fact that I look forward to it. Never thought of myself as the sadistic type. But when it comes to her, even her anger is a side I love and that makes my heart race. And it is not that she is really mad at me. It has become a constant banter between us – very much like our eating habits.

I hear a knock on the door between our rooms. There we go.

Passing the room I try buttoning my shirt but the moment I open the door and see her standing there I can do nothing but stare. I keep staring at her with wide eyes I believe.

She wears this new dress I have never seen before. The green is lightning up her hair. It is no green like her uniform it is more like that of a lemon, something light. It makes her skin shine. I let my eyes wander over her arms that are not covered, lingering for a moment on her equally bare shoulders. She will get cold once we get out of this room. I let my glance drop lower and register the outlines of her breasts showing under the fabric that hugs her figure perfectly. I want to reach out to feel the smooth linen of the cloth, feel her skin beneath my fingers. But I keep my hands dangling by my side.

Only now I become aware of the small violet flowers that barely show on the dress. They make it look like a summer's day. A summer's day that came on early. The skirt falls loosely round her legs ending about a hand's breadth below her knees. I can see the wind caught in it making her seem like she is floating.

My eyes travel back up to her face. She holds a small smile there. I know I should compliment her on her looks but I simply cannot come up with anything that would only slightly equal the beauty of her and the way she makes me feel.

Muffled her words finally reach my ears. "Harm, you aren't ready yet."

"Huh?" I didn't understand a word she said. I am still standing there in total amazement.

"We need to go." I hear her words more clearly now but there is no cell in my brain that would have been free to work up a response or make my body switch into any kind of action.

"You haven't even finished dressing." My eyes search hers. They seem like the only thing I am able to move.

Suddenly I hear her voice change slightly. Am I imaging or is it getting a more seductive edge when she says "Let me help you,"?

I feel more than see her reach out to finish buttoning up my shirt. She starts at the lower parts, her fingers moving fast. She has already closed the first two buttons when her fingers make contact with my skin.

And immediately it begins pricking and sends a shiver up my spine. It is like her touch set me on fire. The muscles of my stomach tighten without me being able to do anything about it. I wait for her next touch. I long for it.

She takes her time now. Slowly she works her way to the next button her fingers trembling. I can see her eyes are concentrated on the button as if it's the only thing keeping her focused.

This time her touch is no longer coincidental. Her finger draws a short line over my stomach before she reaches for the button. This time my shiver must be clearly visible to her. Still I manage to keep myself under control just letting her proceed and waiting for her next touch.

I do not have to wait long though. She has reached my chest by now. I can feel the warmth of her skin on mine when first one finger lingers only to be joined by a second thereafter.

Her eyes search for mine and they lock. None of us is concentrated on the buttons any longer. There is something more important than being on time now.

Slowly her whole hand comes to rest on my chest. That is when my body finally sets back into action and my hands reach out for her in one swift motion. My right hand begins to softly caress her cheek while the other finally finds the smooth linen that covers her hip.

Her hand moves from my chest up to my neck where it's joined by the other. In the same motion I pull her close, close enough to feel her body heat mixing with mine.

And what has started out slow is now up to an incredible speed when our lips come crashing down on one another's. My hand is now at her neck pressing her mouth to mine. I run my tongue over her lips desperate to be granted entrance. I hear myself moan when she finally parts her lips and I taste her sweetness once more.

By now my other hand has moved up her back and reached the rim of her dress. I pull further up until the whole of my hand covers the naked spot below her shoulder blades. I am surprised to find her skin covered with goose bumps. Then again I am sure mine is covered with them as well ever since her first touch.

When we finally have to part for air we do so slowly neither of us wanting to. We only pull apart as far as we need to look into each others eyes. I find my desire reflected in hers. And there is something else that makes my heart miss a beat. Something that is beyond a momentary desire, something more enduring. And still I am not able to voice any words. So I am keeping silent, keep just staring into her wonderful eyes.

We stay like this for what seems like an eternity. I realize that both of us are still in our own room, she has not crossed the threshold into mine. Is she still holding back, afraid to really take the final step? Then again, maybe I'm reading too much into a plainly innocent situation. It doesn't really matter where she stands as long as she's in my arms.

"Guess we'll be running late," I hear myself say.

"Mmm."

Hesitantly we let go of each other. I finish to close my shirt while she turns back to get her purse and a cardigan to keep her warm.

We leave this door – a reminder of the possibilities – open when we both head for the other door of our respective rooms to meet back outside in the corridor to finally get going.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

I'm sitting on the porch behind our house and I watch the sun make its slow progression around the building before it will set tonight directly facing our backwards windows. A cool soda within arm's reach I spent the remaining minutes until Harm and Mac arrive, dozing off.

Magically my eyes are drawn to the pale blue sky running over the small clouds that spread here and there. And once again I realize just how much a privilege it is to have the possibility to be up there. To roam the skies, to look down at earth on a clear day like today or to vanish up above the clouds into the brightest sunshine when the world lies grey beneath.

My eyes follow a flock of birds as they fly towards the sun until I can no longer pick them out against the bright light.

"What are you doing?" my wife softly asks moments after I hear her arrive by my side.

"Starring off into space," I say, my eyes still strained on the blue of the sky.

She kneels down beside my chair and folds her arms onto the armrest to give her more stability. I tear my eyes away from the white clouds and let them linger on Charlie's face. I find the sun reflected in her eyes and her smile. My hand reaches up to push a strand of hair back behind her ear. I love to do this. Her hair still looks the same as the day we first met, falling in soft waves to her shoulders. Only now the blonde is accented with the first strands of grey. To me that only makes her that much more beautiful. My fingers trace one of these strands around her ear to where it meets her cheek. There my hand stops to move. Charlie leans into my touch.

"What?" her eyes look questionably into mine.

"You once again reminded me how lucky I've been since the day we both returned to Miramar."

_I sat at the bar on the base the first day I returned to Miramar. I just wanted to relax, to do nothing but have a beer and read my paper. Music played from the jukebox in the next room. I didn't listen it was more like a soothing background sound. Then I heard that old familiar song start. Startled by the melody and the memories I got up and headed towards the other room. But there was nobody around, the bar was empty except for me, the bar keeper and a Captain by the door in the back. Bars are a lonely place before the offices close down. _

_I placed my glass on the jukebox and watched the LP rotate while fond tunes and memories evolved around me. A sound almost lost to the music made me turn. And there she was her smile bright and beautiful. She leaned against the doorframe silently watching me for a while._

_Then she spoke, "Hello Pete Mitchell." That moment it were the most wonderful words I've ever heard._

_"I heard the best of the best gonna be back here. So…" she trailed off and silence lingered between us, filled by the song – our song – out of the jukebox._

_I smiled. I couldn't believe that she was back here. That she returned. There was no question if she would stay, I simply knew she would._

_"This could be complicated," I finally say. "You know, in the first one I crashed and burned." The last time I had told her this it had a total different meaning, had nothing to do with love but with fun – and sex to be totally sincere._

_"And the second?"_

_I laughed silently my smile getting wider. She'd asked the same back then at our first meeting._

_Starting to close the distance between us I answered the same way I did back then, "I don't know, but it's looking good so far."_

_My hand came to rest on her cheek, hers on my upper arm. Slowly we leaned in until our lips met in a fiery kiss. I knew that was the start of the rest of my life. A life I never dreamt of before I met her but a life I was ready to live now._

_When our lips finally parted the song had long stopped to play and the bar lay silent. Nobody bothered to pick a new song. We remained in the middle of the small room, the sunlight drawing our immovable shadows onto the wooden floor. They looked like one, there was no separating one from the other._

_Minutes passed with us just standing there. We could have stayed like that forever._

_In the far back of my mind I heard a coin drop into the nearby jukebox and seconds after our song started anew. Leveling my eyes off from Charlie I checked the room and found the Captain's glance meeting my eyes. He smiled at me before he settled back into his chair and focused on his beer._

_Still looking at the unknown man I started to softly move left and right. But it wasn't long before I closed my eyes and reveled in the slow swaying and Charlie's body against mine._

"Yeah. Best choice we've ever made," she pulls me from my reverie.

For a while I've been wondering if she really thought of giving up her promotion to be just that. Or if she would blame me for not getting on? But this was long ago. Now I know she never mourned the lost chance. She is – as well as I am – happy here.

"Best," I confirm before I seal it with a quick kiss on her lips.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupts what could have easily developed into more. We let our lips linger a moment longer in their sweet contact. Then we both get up to greet our guests.

Arriving at the backdoor a step ahead of me Charlie stops and holds her hand out for me to take. I take it and let her lead me through the big kitchen and the hall to the door where I can see the distorted figures of Harm and Mac through the glass.

I open the door to find them engaged in a conversation that stops as soon as the opening is wide enough to reveal both my wife and me.

"Hello guys."

"Charlie, Mav, thanks for the invitation," Mac speaks up for the both of them.

Charlie motions them in with the hand that's not entwined with mine. "Come on in."

The 'perfect' gentleman Harm lets Mac enter first, his hand immediately falling into place on the small of her back as he follows her. It looks like a regular thing for them. They turn and wait for me to close the door so we could lead the way. I register that they stand a lot closer than I've seen them before. I'm not sure if that's only because it's the first time I see them in private. That's when I remember the advise I gave Harm yesterday.

"And?" I ask.

Immediately the women's eyes are on me looking lost at what I mean. I concentrate on Harm, at least he should understand. And sure enough he reacts to my question. A huge smile spreads over his face, from one ear to the other to use the common image.

"Done as ordered, sir." He doesn't salute but for the matter of seconds his appearance straightens. Only his voice gives away the not so serious topic. I can tell that he is truly happy.

"Would you care to enlighten us?" Charlie asks, including Mac in her motion while her other hand squeezes mine to get my attention.

"Just something I asked Harm to do."

Both seem to accept my explanation, at least for now. For I know Charlie will question me about this little episode later on once Harm and Mac are gone. And from what I know about Mac she'll probably be not much different there either.

"How about we move this to the porch?" Yeah, the questions will definitely be on later tonight.

"We brought dessert," Mac says as if she only just noticed the big box of ice cream she holds.

"I better put that in the fridge then. Any of you want something to drink?"

"Do you need any help?" Mac asks.

"No, but thanks. Just go ahead with the men."

"In that case I'd like a soda please."

"Two beers for us, honey." I say checking with Harm who nods.

Charlie then turns to vanish through the door on our left while I start to walk back down the hall.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

"And?" What is that supposed to mean? What is Maverick aiming at?

I follow Mav's eyes as they travel over his wife, me and then settle on Harm. So maybe the question was directed at him.

"Done as ordered, sir," comes his equally strange reply. I still can't make any sense of this conversation. And neither can't Charlie obviously when she asks for clarification.

So something Mav asked Harm to do. But what for? Has Harm once again pulled the magic rabbit out of his hat? Did they think of something new to present on Monday morning? But where is the need, they've pretty much made their case anyway. And why is Harm grinning that broadly? I wish I knew what they were up to.

As I look on a silent conversation ensues between the two men. After a second a satisfied smile appears on Maverick's lips. It drives me crazy not to know what they are up to. I'll be damned if I can't get Harm to tell me tonight.

Still thinking about the strange scene I follow Mav when he finally starts going. On our way to the backdoor we pass an odd collection of photographs that takes up most of the wall alongside the stairs. There are black and white children's portraits, colorful pictures of various jets. Photos that look pretty official, snapshots and little 'pieces of art'. And they are all widely mixed, there seems to be no pattern. I spot what looks like a recent picture of their son Nick right above the photo of a beautifully painted jet with German insignia.

First I only slow down to let my eyes travel over the many items, but then I stop to have a closer look at some of them. There is a beautiful black and white picture of Maverick – ten, fifteen years younger, but clearly Maverick – where he stands with a small naked infant pressed against his bare chest. His smile is bright and proud. I can't fight the urge to see Harm in that position, securely holding his own son or daughter to his heart.

"Did you have these taken?" I ask Mav who by now had come back to stand beside me, his eyes taking in the same pictures but surely seeing more than I can.

"No, Charlie took them. It's a hobby of hers."

"She's pretty good." The pictures look like they are from a professional.

I turn my head back to the photo of the jet I've spotted earlier. I study its great paintings. There's a wolf's head on the inlet and man's face on the tail fin with a name beneath.

"You've got a great collection of jets." Sure that's the one thing Harm sees first, all the jets.

"Every now and then we attend some air shows. That's where we got most of these from. That's a Tornado from the German Bundeswehr for example. It does look great, doesn't it?" Mav says pointing to the photo I've been looking at.

We wander a little further down the hall, exploring more pictures. Somewhere right in the middle of the wall I find a picture that looks rather torn. The edges show a few small tears. Yet still it seems to be well treasured. The picture shows two very young men. I'd say they aren't much older than their mid-twenties. One of them is Maverick again. This guy has only gotten cuter over the years. The second is taller and slimmer build. They both look happy. Both wear white T-shirts and you can see the dog tags hanging round their necks. So this probably is some old Academy or flight school pal of Maverick's just like Keeter is for Harm.

Right next to that one – actually in the same frame – is an old Polaroid that already started to fade. The words 'First Encounter '89' are written on the white border of the photo. It shows something that looks very much like a pilot's helmet in a cockpit of sorts.

"You didn't get this from an air show, did you?" I ask curious what it really is.

"Nah, shot it myself out of our cockpit."

"You where that close to another jet?"

"Yeah, it was like that..." and Mav crosses his arms at the elbows and moves his hands in front of my eyes so their backs face each other and the palms are turned outward. "We were above him – inverted – when I took the photo."

"No you weren't!" I can't believe that's even possible yet that somebody does it for fun.

"He's telling you about how he took the photo of the MiG, doesn't he?" Charlie now comes back to join us, holding a tray with our drinks and some snacks. "I couldn't believe it either when I first heard. But I guess it's true judging from the Polaroid."

I shake my head thinking about the pure insanity of doing such a thing. "There's something about pilots that makes them do crazy things."

"Yeah, and there's something about pilots that you find rather attractive, Marine." Suddenly Harm's lips are close to my ear. I didn't feel him come that close.

"You wish," I reply equally whispered and without turning.

"I know." And he places a quick kiss behind my ear before he backs away.

"You two done flirting?" Charlie asks grinning at me.

"Who us?" Harm asks playing the innocent.

Charlie and Mav just roll their eyes before they turn and head off. Grinning at me a last time Harm follows them, leaving me behind with the wall of memories. Taking a last look at the Polaroid I still can't believe Maverick did it. That's when the significance of the other picture hits me like a rock. The other man must be Mav's RIO, the one that died in his arms. Staring at these two happy men my thoughts wander off on how fast things could change, for better or for worse. There are times when you don't have the time to decide, you just have to take what fate offers and try to deal with it.

Pushing myself back into reality I finally start after the others. Still thinking about the twists life can take I pass a picture that makes me stop when I'm well past it and retreat my steps so I can have a closer look.

The man I see now I recognize immediately, there's no mistaking him. He is also younger, yet still it's him. He stands with a group of men, all of them seem relaxed and at ease. Maverick is among them as well. Another memory from a time that has passed.

Smiling, I at least make my way out the backdoor to join the others on the porch. I flop down onto the chair next to Harm.

"Mav, do you know Tom Boone?"

"We met briefly. He worked here for a while when I first arrived as an instructor. He left not long after though. I never heard of him since."

"How do come to think about the Admiral now, Mac?" Harm asks confused.

"I just saw a picture of him hanging in the hall. Never knew he could look that young."

"Hey, we've all been younger once."

"Yeah, and fitter." I gently clap his stomach that still looks pretty good but isn't as flat as it was when we first met.

"Hey," he says a small hint of hurt put into the word. "I can still outrun you."

"In your dreams sailor," I say flirtingly batting my eyes at him.

"So the two of you know Tom Boone?" Maverick finally breaks our banter and invades our private world that excludes everything around us.

"Pretty much so. I consider him a friend, though I would never tell him face to face." Harm jokes.

"Did you know?" I ask him.

"Did I know what?"

"That the Admiral was at Top Gun?"

"Yes. Do you remember when the Chinese had our AP3?"

"The first or the second one?"

One of his eyebrows scoots up in his usual way and a small but crooked smile appears on his lips. "The second, the one we destroyed."

"Sure I do, but-" I answer vaguely, not sure where Harm wanted to go with this.

"I had the Admiral testify as an expert. He mentioned that he was a skipper at Top Gun."

"So how come you met him?" Mav wants to know.

"Every now and then we meet him on a case." Harm hesitates for a minute before he goes on. "But I actually know him from when I was still a child. He'd flown with my father. And he came by once when he returned from Vietnam to see how my mom and I were doing." He drops his eyes to his lap and his voice dies when the memories take over. I reach out my hand to press his in silent comfort. He lifts his head and a small smile appears on his lips. He will be okay.

Silence lingers over the table. I watch as Charlie runs her hand over her husband's arm. Does she try to calm similar memories?

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

For a while the four of us stay silent sunken in our own memories. The evening, that was supposed to be fun and relaxing, gets gloomier by the minute. The arrival of Nick and another boy break the eerie atmosphere, though.

"Have you started grilling yet?"

I see Charlie shake her head while at the same moment Mav breaks out of his reverie and gets up.

"Any minute now, guys," he says making his way over to the grill that stands in the corner of the porch not far from my place.

Mac's hand is still placed on my arm, her index finger drawing lazy patterns on the fabric of my shirt. I cover her hand with mine and her movement stops. Turning my head from her hand to her face I see a silent question in her eyes.

"I'm okay," I whisper. Then I take her hand and place it back into her lap before I get up and walk over to Mav, see if I can be of any help.

"Mac, Harm, you already know Nick. And that's Duke, our oldest son," Charlie introduces the second boy who by now settled down in the chair beside her.

I turn to lean against the pillar supporting the roof that spans over the porch.

"Call me DC," he says, his eyes fixed on Mac and a boyish smile on his lips. Guess he's trying his charm.

"What does the C stand for?" Mac asks.

"Christopher." You can tell that he doesn't like that name much either and being DC surely is cooler.

"He hates that name." Nick pipes in trying to get to his older brother. "Duke Christopher." He stresses every syllable of the words. I sure hope it's the normal teasing between brothers.

"Nick!" his mother mildly scolds while Mac and I curiously watch the situation unfold.

But DC got his own way of payback for his little brother. As soon as his name leaves the younger boys lips DC is out of his chair and rounding the table to where Nick sits. And then in one swift motion he shots his hands towards his brother to first slap him – very much the way Mac slaps me when I've once again said or done something stupid – before he starts his tickling attack.

"Funny little one." Now I can tell that's a name Nick doesn't like. To be the little one.

Laughter now swoops around us. And before long we all join in their laughter.

Kids. They can change the whole curse of a situation.

From that point on the evening gets as relaxed as I expected it to be. No more memories of the past, but the pleasure of the present.

Soon the first scent of grilled meat fills the air. We help ourselves to plates of salad and bread that Mac and Charlie brought in several runs from the kitchen. Charlie must have gone all out for this dinner.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

One after the other we all lean back in our chairs totally stuffed and satisfied. With a rapid tempo Mav's been putting more and more things one the grill. There have been variations of flesh naturally but he somehow must have known about Harm being vegetarian because they had prepared several corncobs but also some very delicious peaches they had cut in half and filled with something that looked like jam. These were absolutely delicious and I might have to admit it one day, but I doubt that Harm got many of those as each time one of them laid on his plate my fork was more on his than on mine. But each time I was only greeted by a smile of his.

"Charlie, that was the best barbeque I've ever had," Harm says when he puts down his fork at last.

"Thanks."

After a while of silent revelry in our current state Nick can no longer bear the quietness and gets up from his chair and vanishes inside. Only moments later he is back, bringing a football along.

"Dad, can we play?"

"Nick, we've only just eaten."

"All the more reason to burn the calories," Charlie teases her husband whereas she is rewarded with him rolling his eyes.

"Who can argue the reasoning of children and women?" Mav answers and pushes himself out of his chair.

"No one. Come on Harm, get going." I place my hand on Harm's shoulder to encourage him to get up as well.

"Mac!" he starts to protest but finally surrenders and joins the rest of the males.

Leaning back again, drink in hand I watch the football game begin. It's Nick and Mav against Harm and DC. Immediately Nick starts a tackling at Harm who plays along and falls to the ground. Surprised by Harm giving way that easily, the young boy falls on top of him. And resulting from his momentum does pretty much of a roll before he comes to a halt quite a way from Harm. I watch the foursome erupt into laughter.

"Boys will be boys," Charlie, who by now has occupied her son's chair and sits next to me, says. Just give a man the chance to be a boy again and he happily takes it. Maybe that is part of the reason why men love fast jets and cars so much.

We continue watching as Mav helps his son back up before the game starts anew.

"Has Mav always been like this?"

"Like what?"

My eyes are focused on Maverick. What is it that he is? What is it about him that I can't find the right word for but still need to know about it?

"That settled," Settled – that's what I called it when I told Mav about it. "Balanced." This might be the proper word.

"Oh my god, no!" Charlie exclaims laughingly. "He was reckless when we first met. He thought he was the world's greatest. Nobody could stop him." She pauses a moment and glances back down onto the yard, for a long moment watching her family playing in the evening sun. "Nobody but his inner demons," she then adds, more quiet now.

"From when he lost his RIO." I know how much that can trouble a man.

Charlie looks at me a little surprised. Then she shakes her head, no. So maybe Mav wasn't just being comforting when he said that he had his share of struggles.

Her voice nothing more than a whisper, a clear sign that she was giving away personal matters, Charlie starts to tell me, "That came long after and only added up to his problems. Mav lost his dad in Vietnam when he was still a child."

There, just another thing Harm and Mav have in common. Had their childhood experience formed them both into men that much alike? It surely left a big mark on both of them.

"Mac?" I must have stared at Charlie as if she'd grown another head.

"It's just that Harm lost his dad in Vietnam when he was six. He ran off to 'Nam when he was only sixteen to search for him. He didn't stop until he finally knew what happened. And I'm not sure that he got it all sorted out in his heart. That he can let his dad and his memories rest. Has Mav?" I suddenly need to know if there is the possibility of Harm ever getting over it. I certainly don't want him to forget about his dad, but one way or another he would have to cope with things.

"It took a hard and long time for him to come to terms with it. But now he accepted what happened. And I think our kids helped him, up to a point."

"I understand what you mean. Ever since Harm took in Mattie, his teenage ward, he changed a lot."

"Losing your father at this young an age will mark a boy for life, I guess."

"Were you never afraid this could happen to your boys?"

We continue watching. DC now jumped on his father's back, trying to get a hold of the football. Their laughter drifts towards us.

"Each and every day. But every night when Mav comes home I forget about it. Over the years the fear has become something like a distant memory. It no longer dominates my thoughts. I know that Mav doesn't take the unnecessary risks."

My eyes switch from Harm to Charlie when I feel her gaze on me.

"You are scared for him, aren't you?"

I look back to Harm who's laughing happily with the Mitchell boys. "Yes, I am." How could I not after all we've experienced, after all he experienced? "But sometimes I wish he would never set foot into one of these damned jets again."

Suddenly Charlie's voice gets serious. "Never make him choose between you and flying. You gonna lose either way."

"I never would. I never could. I know that flying is part of him. He wouldn't be happy if he could never fly again." And that in turn would hurt the both of us. So I would have to cope with my fear just as Charlie and every other woman involved with an aviator does.

I continue to watch him score a point when I feel a warm hand come to rest on my arm. I turn my head to look into the reassuring eyes of a woman that knows how I feel.

"You must believe that everything will work out alright for you."

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

I know that this belief and the knowledge and experience from the past that Mav will do everything in his might to return to me and the boys is the one thing that lets me get through the day without becoming an emotional wreck. But I also know that all of this can change in the blink of an eye. That once something happened, this wouldn't be enough.

My hand still rests on the arm of the woman next to me. A woman Mav feels so close to and a woman I feel I can confide in even though I've only known her for not even half a day. I draw as much comfort from this touch as I intended to give her. It makes us one of a kind.

Meanwhile I watch my youngest score a point and happily dance around his dad who laughs loudly. When Nick turns to me I proudly clap my hands to his achievement.

A little while later he's satisfied by my approval and returns his attention back to the game that is about to start without him. That is when I relax back into my seat and just let the fading day lull me into a peaceful mood. The soft tunes that drift out of the house from where Mav put some CD's into the player earlier only adding up to that. Softly I hum along to the songs I love. Isn't it just great, that you can burn a collection of all your favorites onto a CD without all those you don't like?

"Do you mind me asking if this is yours and Maverick's song?" Mac quietly asks when 'You've lost that loving feeling' comes on.

"Not at all. Yeah it is. How do you know?" A smile creeps over my lips.

"Mav mentioned it to be his favorite. Has it been playing when you first met?" By now she has sat up in her chair facing me to the full.

"Actually Mav and his RIO Goose sang it to me when we first met."

"He really did?"

"Yeah, while the whole bar watched and all the guys joined the chorus."

"Oh my gosh." She claps her hand to her mouth.

"That's what I thought. I never had somebody singing for me before."

I follow Mac's glance that now moves from me back to the boys.

"Was that when you fell for him?"

For a moment I think about it. I've been thinking about it before. Yet still I'm not sure. "Maybe. Though at the time I tried to put it off as the typical pilots' coquetry and was desperate not to let it affect me."

"But in the end you gave in."

"Yeah, some weeks into the course. How long were you able to resist?"

"Eight years." I'm not sure I really heard the slight hint of remorse in her voice. And from the way her eyes are fixed on the men I can't tell from her eyes if it was really there.

"Eight years? You resisted that man for eight years? How?" I can't believe it. How can somebody avoid something that obvious for that long?

"It just happened. Something always happened. Respective others, work, our past. We just never found the right moment."

"But now you did."

"Yeah." Her answer is almost whispered and I need to strain my ears to hear it over the music and the cheers from the yard. Maybe Mac still can't believe it finally happened.

"So how did Harm manage to capture your heart?"

I can tell that her eyes instantly settle on Harm. But after a short moment she closes them and sinks into what I suppose are memories. The seconds tick by while I wait for Mac to answer my question. And slowly, very slowly the smile on her face gets brighter, as if her memories get brighter as well. There must have been quite a lot of things that happened over these eight years. Things that only got them closer in the end.

"With all the little things he did. That came naturally, about which he didn't have to think about. He somehow made things right."

I nod my head. Sometimes it are the small things that count, not the big gestures.

We remain silent after that for some more moments before the men finally abandon their game and return to the table.

"How about the ice cream you brought?" Mav asks once everybody has settled down.

Harm confirms, "Yeah, I could use something to cool off."

"Okay, some big ice creams for the though footballers," I laugh before I reach for some of the plates and start inside.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

I follow my wife into the kitchen taking the remaining empty plates. When I enter, I find her leaning against the bar, her gaze fixed on the window. I drop the dishes into the sink and walk over to her. Stepping up behind her, I wrap my arms around my wife and place my chin on her shoulder. My glance follows hers. Harm and Mac stand cuddled together by the far side of the porch. They make a great pair. Suddenly we hear Mac's laughter drifting towards us.

"They are good for each other," Charlie says.

"Like you are for me."

"Like I am for you," she confirms.

"And I, what about me?" I start to breathe softly into her ear, a thing she can't stand for long.

She leans back against me and a small sound escapes her lips, "Mhmm, has Pete Mitchell ever been good for me?" I let another breath tickle down past her ear.

"With all your knowledge of MiGs, I'd say you have."

I see her grin reflected in the window and can't help but add mine when we both remember our very first private meeting.

_She just sat there, tucking a little piece of bread into her mouth when she said, "And then I thought about it. I thought; you know, Charlie, he's a smart guy why don't you just tell him why you got him here." _

_"Well?" I fixed my eyes on her waiting for her answer._

_"It's the MiG." For a second there I was disappointed, before I realized that this might be the reason she wanted it to be and the reason she would tell anybody that might ask, but in no way was this the only reason nor the important one._

_"The MiG. You're the only pilot that's been up against one. I'm working for that big promotion…"_

_"Seems to me you got it all figured out."_

_"Yeah."_

_"It's a pity you forgot the wine." I lifted my empty glass._

_"Sorry."_

_"You always get what you want?"_

_"No, not always," she starts but then answers truthfully. "Yeah, maybe."_

_"Then relax about the MiG." My voice had now dropped a level to a more seductive tone._

Thank god she wanted me as well back then. The remainder of the evening was quite enjoyable and the start of what turned out to be the rest of my life. I'm still thanking god at times that she wasn't mad at me for being late.

"So is there anything you want now Mrs. Mitchell?" I whisper seductively into her ear.

"Yeah, how about –" she starts when another voice cuts her off.

"Mom, I wanted ... Uhh, do you all have to do this?" DC comes into the kitchen only to stop right at the door when he finds us locked in our embrace.

We've never been a pair to hide our love from our children. They grew up with many displays of affection between both Charlie and me, but between either of them and us as well. But ever since DC started on puberty he couldn't stand the sight, at least not very often. And as I shoot a quick glance outside to where Harm and Mac stand I see them still close as well.

"Hey, that's what love is. One day we'll remind you when you stand out there, not able to keep your hands from your own wife."

"Yeah, maybe. So, what about the ice cream?"

"You're a kill-joy," I complain but let go of my wife and walk to the fridge. Our son vanishes back outside as soon as he sees me going for the dessert.

Returning with the ice cream, I can't resist lifting up Charlie's shirt and pressing the iced box quickly against her bare back. Charlie spins around in a rapid motion while a high pierced cry escapes her lungs. The moment she faces me, a mocking fury in her eyes, I address her with the smile I believe to be my most innocent. Sometimes I just can't suppress the little boy in me, despite my age. Sometimes I just have to do these little childish things; they help me bear my adult life. And I always get away with them. Always. It's no different this time. A slight slap on the chest and "Jerk," is all I get before Charlie grabs the package, turns back around and finally opens the box to feed our hungry children.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-


	7. By The Look In Your Eyes

The lyrics used at the end of this chapter are from Ronan Keating's "The Way You Make Me Feel".

* * *

**-By The Look In Your Eyes- **

Once the ice cream bowls were emptied and the sun had sunk in a wonderful sunset, Harm and I said our thanks to let a wonderful day end on our own.

"I'm back in a minute," he said the moment we stepped into my room.

So now I'm left standing at my door, watching his back disappear into his room. Why is this bothering me that much? He said he will be back. It's not like he is going to close that door on me again, is it? But this whole day, whenever he left my side I worried if he would come back. It wasn't so much the fear that he wouldn't return that moment, but that one day he would just be gone, never to return. I worried if it all is a dream that is about to end any moment now. That nothing had changed, or worse, that we are left with nothing at all.

Slowly I walk over to my suitcase. On the way I kick my shoes off and let my eyes follow them into a dark corner of my room. I didn't bother to switch the light on. With trembling fingers, I rummage through my belongings, not knowing what I want to find, but needing to occupy me anyhow. I am anticipating his return.

A small sound alerts me and I turn around to find him standing in the doorway. The soft shadows of the outside light paint strange patterns on the floor, the walls, his body and his face. He must have let one of the lights in his room on. There is a soft yellow glow surrounding him. But it isn't giving away much of his expression. It is hidden in shadows mostly. He is slumped with his shoulder resting against the doorframe. I realize that he is barefoot. The two topmost buttons of his shirt are open now. My glance travels up his throat. I can make out his Adam's apple. It dances up and down in the rare light, vanishing into darkness on its way up only to return into the light seconds later. I know I am swallowing just as much as Harm. My mouth fell dry the moment I turned around to face him. And now I need to get it back to his usual state in order to get any word out. I would have gone to the bathroom if I wasn't trapped in Harm's glance.

"Hey," he finally whispers, his words barely reaching me.

Swallowing a rather big lump in my throat I manage a "Hey, yourself."

My next move amazes me to a high degree, as I did absolutely nothing about it. I'm taking a step in his direction. In the same instant Harm starts to move as well and closes the gap between us. He now stands right in front of me, mere inches away. For a long moment we stand there facing each other without looking at the other. Our eyes are cast down on the floor. What are we going to do next?

Harm moves first. His right index finger hooks up my chin and softly pulls it up so he can look at me. And just there and then when he stands up to his full height he still manages to look at me from beneath. With his head slightly bowed down he manages to look up at me with his incredible blue eyes. Even the darkness couldn't keep me from drowning in the blueness. He'd given me that glance before. When we said goodbye before he returned to flying. When we both thought this to be a final goodbye. This glance makes a million butterflies come to life in my stomach and my knees go wobbly. My eyes are still fixed on his, the only constant in my spinning world.

And as if that isn't enough, Harm starts to run his thumb over my lips. From left to right and back again. I close my eyes to fully concentrate on his movement. When he made his way back he stops and lifts his thumb from my lips, leaving behind the burning sensation of his touch. Instantly I curl my lips inward and press them together to burn the feel of his touch into them, to never forget it, to taste the slight salty cover he had left on them.

I have not yet moved. I'm still standing in the middle of the room, stiff as a stick waiting for his next actions.

He lets go of my chin only to trail my jaw line with his finger up to my ear. His other hand doubles his movement. They are now placed gently at the sides of my face, his thumbs caressing the sides of my neck. This makes me longing for more, so much more. It makes my pulse and breath speed up incredibly. I feel him pulling my head closer. Every fibre of my body now wants him to kiss me, to once again feel the sensation of his kiss sweep through my whole body.

And then finally everything comes crashing down on me. My mind retreats into the far back and my body takes over for once. My arms wrap around Harm's waist and pull him close. Close and closer. When his tongue begins to battle with mine I still pull him closer. There is no air left between us and still I inch nearer. I press my hip against his. I feel his hipbone pressed into my flesh. But it still isn't near enough.

I feel his hands travel down my neck, tracing the rim of the neckline of my dress. His lips trail down the other side of my neck, leaving a wet trail. I throw my head back to grant him better access. All the while my hands have worked their way under his shirt, now roaming over the muscles in his back, tracing his spine.

Harm slowly slips the cardigan down my shoulders as his lips follow close. When he reaches the far end of my shoulder, my head snaps back forward and comes to rest against his. I burry my nose in his hair, gladly welcoming the tickling effect of it. Still kissing my shoulder, his hands pull at the white cotton that is still covering most of my arms. I need to let go of my hold on his back to get rid of this thing, but I'm desperate to cling onto him. Once he realizes it is no good he directs his kisses back to my face. He covers my eyes with sweet kisses, the bridge of my nose. He leaves one on the tip of my nose before he continues to my lips. I try to consummate all of him the moment his lips contact mine again. I'm pushing hard against him, not only with my lips but with my whole body. He is returning the motion.

Finally we have to part for air and I open my eyes at last to look at him. His eyes are glazed over with desire and passion, desire and passion I'm sure he sees reflected in mine as well. His eyes never leaving me he once again starts to pull at the cardigan. Reluctantly I let my arms drop to my side so he can slide it down.

But the moment I do, my mind switches back into action. I come to realize what we are about to do. Harm's eyes are still filled with what I saw moments ago, nothing changed. But something changed for me.

When he lowers his head to kiss me once more I hastily take a step backwards, almost stumbling over my cardigan that is now piled on the floor. Looking up at him I see confusion mixing into his passionate glance. I back away another step, and a third. He is too shocked to follow. He still stands there, rooted to the spot trying to figure out what is happening.

Finally his hand reaches out for me. "Mac?" His question sounds desperate. He doesn't understand.

But do I? "Harm, we can't do this." No we can't, it would jeopardize everything we have. But if this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel this bad? Why is all of my body still longing for it? Why is my heart aching from the look on Harm's face? Why do I feel like I am wrong? I need to say something and soon or he would be gone and leave me in a more desperate state than I'm in right now.

"I want you too, you know that. We've probably known that for years." I can make out a small smile on his lips. Good. But the smile isn't reaching his eyes. It would take much more for me to make him understand. But first I need to understand it myself, figure it out.

"It's just… this is too much, too soon." Who am I trying to fool? Too soon? After I've been in love with this man for at least five years, if not longer. And still. "I need to think about this. Alone. I… I need to figure out what to do. I don't want us to make a huge mistake."

"Fine. Take all the time you need," this time his words sound bitter where they sounded only remorse on the beach at Manderlee when he first said something alike. He turns his back to me and starts walking back to his own room.

"Harm, don't do this, don't shut me out." He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face me.

"_I_ am shutting _you_ out?" His voice is clearly laden with hurt, it rings in each of his words that are spoken so calmly. "Mac, you are the one that is backing away. Again. You are the one that is building these walls around her heart and is too afraid of letting me in. I don't deny I have my own set of walls, but I've long ago let you in."

He turns around again and all but runs back into his room. But he's leaving the door open. A sign for me to follow him?

"Can't I at least think this through? To decide whether or not to risk the most wonderful friendship I've ever had in my life for something that could be even more wonderful? Or for something that could easily destroy everything we've worked so hard for?" I whisper to myself.

So instead of following him I walk over to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass, trying to think.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

Damn. I hit the switch with an unnecessary force. The light flickers for a moment before I'm left in darkness. Right now it's like somebody blew out the one candle that lighted up my life. I carefully search my way to the bed. When I sit down I suddenly feel exhausted, physically as well as emotionally. _"Harm, we can't do this."_ This one sentence drained me out beyond a point I never thought possible.

My eyes are strained at the open door. Why doesn't she come? Is this the end of everything that's just started? Was I a fool to believe that we could work this out? Was I hoping for too much?

I drop back on the bed. My head hits the wall and I slip down a little my hand finding the spot where a dull ache begins to build and soothing it. The slight pain is a momentary diversion from the numbness that's spreading throughout my body.

_A few rays of light pass by me into her room, illuminating it just enough for me to see her. They meet with those drifting in from the outside world. An outside world that is reduced to only this dim light. My senses are on high alert for everything that is within this room. I can hear the soft humming of the air condition. I smell her shampoo that drifts towards me. And I sense her breathing as clearly as if she stands right beside me. But whatever sounds there me be outside these windows are lost to me. The outside world no longer matters for everything I ever wanted is within this room. _

_I watch her turn around slowly. For a moment I'm once again lost for words, just as if I would see her for the first time again. And suddenly, what looked so easy to do minutes ago safely back in my room, now seems to be that much harder. The things we do next, tiny as they may be, they could easily change everything. Everything we had, everything we trusted it. I know that this is an immense risk to take, yet I'm strangely secure that I want to take it. That I need to take it._

_"Hey." So I do._

_Mac answers me with an equal phrase that I almost don't catch when I watch mesmerised as she takes the first step towards me. It's a small step, carefully taken. But it's a step and that's all I need. With a few strides we've closed the distance._

_Though standing there, our bodies almost touching – they don't. We just stand there, taking our time. I don't know why we do. Maybe Mac, just as I, isn't able to move any muscle from the prickling sensation that is running through her body. It feels as if I'm electrified and I'm afraid, that if we touch right now, we would set the whole room to fire._

_The sensation hasn't subsided much when I finally can't wait no longer and reach my hand out to touch her. The moment I levelled her face up to meet mine I sink into her eyes. And I'd be happy to never resurface again for within her eyes I feel like I am closest to her. The chocolate brown, that still gleam in the surrounding darkness, harbours the depth of her soul and the warmth of her heart. Within Mac's eyes I can see all of her, I can see past her walls when she allows me to. And right now she does. What I see there, no longer hidden, is the love I searched for for so long. I just stand there, running my fingers over her face, revelling in her eyes._

_The next thing I feel is her body crashing into mine. My lips are pressed onto hers, my tongue exploring their texture._

I open my eyes to escape the pictures, the memories. The ceiling lies hidden in the dark apart from a slim orange strip running all the way from the window to the wall of the bathroom at the head end of my bed. I fix my eyes on the light, willing my mind to go blank, to forget what I will never be able to forget.

_I let my lips travel down her neck. I can feel her pulse beat against them. Easily my heart comes to match hers. Sweat starts to pearl on my upper lip. I close my eyes to concentrate on the sensations my tongue sends to my brain when it touches her silken skin. _

_My fingertips are like those of a blind man, slowly exploring her arms. I can feel the little hairs on her arms rise beneath them._

_Her warm hands brush over my back, making me want to arch back and press against them. But my lips are still glued to her skin, now reaching her collarbone. I feel her shiver for a second when I breathe softly over the still wet spot where I last placed a kiss, though it's only a small impression on what Mac's doing to me with her touches. I've never felt that way before. I've never longed that much for a simple touch._

_Her breath now sweeps past my ear when I work my way back up. I can't stand this feeling for long. It makes me want so much more._

_I kiss her eyes, her nose, her lips. I want to kiss all of her, I need to consume her to the full._

_My hands brush down her shoulders. The cardigan falls to the floor, piling around our feet._

_Her arms retreat from my touch, the softness of her skin no longer beneath my fingertips. I can see her take a step back. It seems like she vanishes into darkness, like she wants to hide. Still staring at her, I will my feet to follow her. But I can't, I remain standing there. All of a sudden the air in the room feels cold. Sounds come crashing down on me that weren't there before. A car that passes by beneath her window. A door that shuts somewhere down the corridor. A TV that runs in the adjoining room. It feels like I've woken from a dream. Still able to recall every tiny detail yet unable to continue. Mac's actions are clearly visible for me. But they make no sense, no sense at all. Why does she back away? What has changed in the last second? I can't understand. All I can do is reach out my hand and utter a confused plea._

_"Mac?"_

_It all felt so real, it felt so right. I can't have dreamt all this. Yet still Mac stands there three feet away, not moving. I want to follow, to take her into my arms and hold her. It's that big a need I can physically feel it, my every nerve aching to once again feel her pressed against me. But suddenly three feet seem to be an invincible distance._

_Though what disturbs me even more is the look in her eyes. I'm totally transfixed by her eyes. Eyes that moments ago held a deep love and desire but that have now clouded over so I can clearly see the walls within. Walls I thought had crumbled down._

_"Harm, we can't do this."_

_In an instant my world comes to a dead halt. My arm drops down like my heart does. Everything I thought we had vanishes in this very second, swallowed by an all-consuming darkness. These few words soak out all the energy and little hope that are left in me. They leave me standing there completely torn, completely empty._

Can't… We can't… Maybe Mac is right, maybe this is all wrong. After all there has to be a reason as to why we never made it work. Why our timing always sucked.

But then, why has this day been the best I had in a long time? Why does her body fit against mine that naturally? Why, after all our detours, have we still ended up together? These things, these feelings can't be totally in vain. They can't, yet we can. We can make it work.

I'm tempted to get up. To go over and tell Mac. Tell her that these feelings can't be wrong. That our friends can't be wrong. That eight years are enough for a wait.

Then I hear the rustling of her dress and remain on the bed, waiting for her to make the next move. I sense her eyes on me. I hear her voice, small and uncertain.

"Are you awake?"

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

While I stand by the window, my eyes fixed on a point at the far horizon that lies hidden somewhere in the dark, a conversation from long ago invades my mind.

_"Can your best friend become your boyfriend?" _

Right now it feels like that Christmas is as long gone as the animals whose fossils we traced this morning. So much has happened, so much that changed.

_"Sometimes, if you're lucky,"_ I remember my reply.

I am lucky now, so why am I turning it down? Why am I so afraid of taking a hold of my luck?

My eyes shift to the parking lot below, following the sound of an arriving car. Transfixed I watch both front doors open. In the orange light, which I know comes from the lamp next to the entrance door, I can make out a man and a woman emerging the car. The man proceeds to open the door behind his while the woman walks to the back of the car. After a while the man steps back, a little figure now resting in his arms. I watch the man lower his head. I imagine the whispered words with which he would try to lull the kid back to sleep. The woman has now arrived by the man's side, bag in hand. With a tiny gesture that is almost lost in the dim light she brushes over the little form. I close my eyes for a second and wrap my arms around myself.

I'll never be able to give Harm the child he always wanted. The child I dreamt of since we made our deal. This stupid deal. But I'm no one to destroy his dream. I can't bind him to me, to my past, to my future. He has to move on. It'll be the best for him. And one day, when he holds his own child he will understand. He will understand that this is the only possibility for us.

When I open my eyes again the little family is gone, leaving behind a once again silent and calm parking lot.

I know what I need to do now. What I must do for it is his one chance for happiness. Slowly I cross the room passing the small table, my thigh brushing slightly against the worn wood. I make my way further towards the door. For the first time I realize how dark it has become.

Standing just inside his room, my heels still touching the threshold I search for his frame in the little light drifting inside. He must have switched off the light that burned earlier. Harm lies on his bed, his head resting on his forearms, his face facing the ceiling and his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. I can't tell if he's awake or sleeping.

"Are you awake?" I softly ask.

"Yes," is his equally soft reply.

In the following silence I hear an owl cry in the distance.

"Can we talk?" I still haven't moved.

He doesn't answer but after what seems like an eternity swings his legs out of bed and sits up in a slow motion.

Finally starting to move I reach out for the switch. The sudden bright light leaves me blinking for a few moments. Small tears are building when my eyes adjust to the new situation. Somehow I felt that this conversation better be held in the light than in the dark that would lull us all too soon.

I walk over to him, coming to stand before him uncertain what to do next. Then Harm reaches for my hand. He gently pulls me down onto the bed. I now sit next to him, close but not too close. There is no contact between us except my hand that still rests in his. I'm not going to pull away.

I know it's up to me to start, but it isn't easy. I stare into Harm's eyes contemplating what to say first, how to explain the way I feel. How to make him understand the wild jangle of emotions that runs through me. It isn't easy at all.

Not with the look he gives me. There isn't a hint of the anger they'd shown moments before. In contrast his eyes show a calm confidence. Perhaps I should simply trust him. Like I trusted him on so many things before. He seems to be sure that things would turn out right. He doesn't seem to have any doubts, any fears. That however makes it all that much harder, because I do have fears, I do think about what if it doesn't work.

I awkwardly squirm in my place, inching closer to the edge of the bed. If it wasn't for my hand still resting in Harm's I would have stood up. I would now pace the room, try to avoid his still confident gaze. But I can't, so I cast my eyes down onto our joined hands.

I feel my heart beat in my throat. I swallow to calm down enough to speak. It feels as if I'm about to give a closing argument in court. Only now my future – and his – will depend on how well I do, on how good I'm explaining. I swallow once more.

"I'm sorry. Not for today," I add before Harm can say anything. I need him to stay silent, to listen to me explaining. "Today has been the most wonderful day. It felt like a dream, like a dream finally come true. But that is what I fear, that I will wake up and everything will be gone. That this, that we can't last.

"I'm aware that you want this, Harm. Hell _I_ want this. I know I've been lucky to have you by my side, that we had all these years. And what I want most is for that to never change, to know you'll always be there beside me. However, in my current situation I have no right to bind you. With me you can't have the family you always wanted, the family you deserve."

When he answers his voice is strong and soft at the same moment. "Mac, we talked about this. There are possibilities. And even if nothing works, you are my family."

"Harm, I know you always wanted kids and that you're going to be a great dad. So someday, even if you don't want it, you're going to resent me for never having the son you could teach to fly or the girl you could spoil to no end. And I fear that whatever feelings there are between us won't survive. And I don't want this to happen, to lose you over this. I'm not sure I'm still strong enough for that."

"So you don't even want us to try. I can't do this." I'm still not looking at Harm, but I can feel him shake his head. "I can't just ignore my feelings any longer. And neither can you. We both know that.

"I won't say it's going to be easy. It'll probably be one hell of a ride. But don't you think that over all these years our relationship had proved to be strong?"

"Harm, this is friendship. It's way easier to handle than love."

He hooks one of his fingers under my chin to pull my face up so I finally face him again. "No Mac, it's not. For my feelings won't change now only because I say I love you."

A sigh, which should be happy but right now isn't, escapes my lungs before I can suppress it. I've been waiting so long to hear him say the words. But right now I don't want to hear them. Yet still now he says them, and with such a confidence and sincerity that I have no doubt they came straight from his heart before he could even think about them.

"If the form of our relationship changed at all, it did a long time ago, Mac."

I watch mesmerized, my gaze drawn in by his blue eyes that display his emotions oh so clearly. In the corner of my mind I register that he by now has taken hold of my hand with both of his, his thumbs running up and down on the back of my hand.

"I fear that we might lose what we had as much as you do," he continues. "But if we never try, we will always ask ourselves 'what if'. How can our friendship survive this? How can we go on living like this?"

I don't answer him. I don't know an answer, for there probably is no answer.

We both stay silent. It's a laden silence, laden with all the things unspoken which hover heavily between us. After a long while Harm lets go of my hand. It falls helplessly onto the bed. Just as if, if he isn't there to hold me, I'm not strong enough to stand on my own. And just about now I'm not so sure it isn't the truth. Maybe this Marine needs somebody to hold her once in a while.

"Mac, if you can stand up now and turn your back on me, say that we can't, I'll accept it. It'll be hell for me but I'll cope. I'll try being your friend. I only want you to be happy."

Happy – the word resounds in my head. Happy – I haven't been happy for a while. He would accept my decision so I could be happy. Like he did before. But haven't I only pretended to be happy? I don't know. I've had my share of good times. But it had never been what I've been searching for.

Happy – that may be the warm and fuzzy feeling I had all day while I felt Harm close by. Happy – that might be the smile that always crept to my lips whenever he touched me or looked at me. Happy – that might only be being with Harm.

So I don't move, I can't, I wouldn't. I just sit there, my eyes fixed on his, drawing from them a strength I lack right now.

Suddenly he inches nearer, his knee now touching mine, and wraps his arms around me. Within a second I'm enveloped in his hug, my head resting against his shoulder, his lips brushing softly against my ear.

"I'm so glad you didn't go, Sarah. I want you here with me. I need you."

I pull back a little so I can again look into his eyes, now smiling more confident myself. He opens his mouth to answer the question that I know still lingers in my eyes. Placing my finger on his lips I silence him. I don't need to hear it, for once I don't need to hear the words. For I clearly feel it in his embrace, I see it in his eyes. He will be there.

A small grin builds under my finger. Then he starts to kiss my fingertip, slowly making his way down the finger, over the palm of my hand. And I remain safely in his arms.

_Couldn't feel much better  
Than the way I feel tonight  
Feel like I could live forever  
Feel like I could fly  
When I thought I'd got it wrong, yeah  
You somehow make things right  
_

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

* * *

TBC?  
So, do you want to know about the next morning or should I just end it here?


	8. In A Split Second

_The simple things you do to me  
Simple things you say  
I sometimes can't believe that it's for real  
Yeah, that's the way you make me feel  
Better than I've ever known it  
Better than it's ever been  
I can't seem to control it, no  
It's the way you make me feel  
_

**- In A Split Second - **

I wake to a small movement. Only slowly my surroundings come into focus. I feel something heavy on my arm when I try to bring it up to my face. A warm body is pressed against mine. Soft hair rustles against my arm and shoulder. I smell her sweet perfume mixed with her sweat and mine. It is an intoxicating odour. And it immediately brings back the loving memories of the night that gives way to a new day just now.

I slightly turn my head to have a look at the beautiful woman in my arms. Last night, the whole day yesterday, has been one of the most amazing in my life. And for a second – a second of old insecurity – I wonder if this is real. But then I feel her press her back a little bit tighter to my body, feel her legs gently brush against mine. This is for real. She is for real. We are for real. We finally are where our hearts have always been.

I bury my nose in her hair and kiss the back of her head when I realize that the small movement that woke me comes from her. Mac's whole body is trembling slightly. All of a sudden a strong anxiety claims my heart. What happened? Is it a bad dream? Something worse? Does she have second thoughts? Carefully I back away slightly so I can turn her around. I can do so effortlessly.

But what I see is nothing like I expected. Or maybe it is though totally different. I thought she was crying, crying for she still believes we did the wrong thing. But now, when I look into her face, I see her eyes shining brightly and the most beautiful smile I've ever seen on her lips. Yet still there are wet trails along her temples and bridging her nose.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispers, turning around a little more to come resting on her side.

My words stick in my throat for a moment before I am able to voice my worries and my confusion. "Mac, Sarah. What is it?" My hand automatically reaches for her face to dry the damp skin where only moments before tears have lingered.

"When I woke up, I was convinced I must have been dreaming. That you were still across the room. That nothing of last night happened. No, not nothing. I was afraid I once again succeeded in pushing you away. That I had screwed up our last chance. I thought the rest of the night was just in my dreams.

"But then, I felt your arm beneath me. I felt your heart beat against my back. And then I knew that I haven't been dreaming. That this, that we really happened."

My arm wraps a tad tighter around her when I hear her words. It is a little extra assurance for the both of us.

"Then why were you crying?" I'm even more confused.

"These were happy tears." She places her hand on my chest, her finger starts to draw short lines. "Believe me," she adds when she sees me pull my eyebrow up questioningly.

And then, with a brilliant smile she rolls over even more so her body now covers half of mine. Slowly and tenderly she starts kissing my jaw line. I remain immobile for now, just revelling in her sweet kisses. Mac completes her way up to my ear, then goes back down. I roll my head to the other side to grant her better access when I remember something.

"Not that I mind what you're doing, but how late is it?"

"0647. Enough time," she mumbles without ever losing track.

Satisfied by her answer I let myself fall back into the emotions consuming me, that are so new yet feel so familiar.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

When we resurface into the world, it's to my nagging timing telling me we need to get up. This is one of these days I really despise having this ability. I don't want to get up, to leave the save heaven that I'm currently enveloped in. I don't want to let go of the sound of his heartbeat in my ear that is pressed to his chest. I don't want to stop the movement of my fingers that play over his muscles. Neither do I want to lose the feeling of his hand rubbing gently up and down my arm. And I certainly need to hear the calming sound of his deep breaths. I know that Harm isn't asleep. He, just like me, wants to revel in this moment for all it's worth.

Yet still.

"We need to get up," I murmur, but don't move.

"Mmm hmm," Harm answers.

I wish this moment could last forever. So I just extend it for a little while longer. However, I feel the seconds tick by mercilessly.

"It really is time," I try again with a more convincing voice raising my head to look at him.

"You don't think the judge would announce his findings without us present, would you?" Harm has now opened his eyes, looking straight at me.

"Afraid not, counsel."

He kisses the tip of my nose and moves so I roll onto my back and he can sit up.

"You know, this is all your fault, Marine." He lightly tips his index finger against my chest. "We could be lying here all day, not knowing what time it is."

I'm not able to suppress the smile that magically appears on my lips with the pleasant thought.

"Yeah, and then face an angry judge, not to mention a totally pissed-off General back in Washington." Even I can hear the laughter in my voice.

"It would all be worth it."

I sigh. This is sweet and I'm tempted to give in for just a short time longer. But Harm has at last complied to the unchangeable. He once again kisses my nose – I guess it became his favorite spot – before he turns and gets out of bed.

I remain lying in his bed, watching as he turns the corner into his bathroom. I close my eyes again and am immediately back into his arms. There isn't a place I feel any better.

Only when I hear the water running behind the wall at my head do I drift back into reality. Alright, time to get moving. When I cross the short distance to my room my eyes catch the sunlight that filters in through the slightly open curtains. And suddenly I realize that this day will be a little brighter than the others. That the sun will shine a little warmer. Happily I take the remaining steps to my own bathroom, ready to face the day, knowing that Harm will be by my side through all of it.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

So this is the day. The day that will determine my future.

I kiss my wife good morning when we wake up, like every other day since we got married. But this moment I already feel the heavy atmosphere looming over me. Charlie senses my mood and smiles at me reassuringly. But it's the same smile I cast back in her direction. Meant to show confidence but hidden somewhere in the dark there lingers doubts.

Together we greet the boys at the breakfast table. Their easy banter takes my mind off the hours that will follow. We bit them goodbye when they leave for school. I know no decision made today could ever change what I have with my family. But it can easily change everything I ever defined myself as professionally.

Charlie and I remain silent during the short drive out of the housing area, across the road to town and onto the main base. She guides the car into a parking lot outside the Administration building.

I don't move. Neither does she. My eyes wander up to the third floor. I search out the windows that belong to courtroom number two. It's not much longer now.

When I turn to kiss Charlie this suddenly feels like a goodbye that's to last longer than until tonight. Like those we share when I head out to a carrier to get my annual traps. I lean over and kiss her gently. When I settle back I hear her say a soft, "Good luck." It's the same thing she always says before my week at sea.

"Nothing will change. We'll win." I reassure her just as much as myself.

I was confident about this all of the weekend. My counsel is confident about it. So why am I worried now?

I get out of the car. Turning around I watch Charlie set back the car and drive further onto the base for her class.

I take the steps, all of them up to the third floor, slowly. Stopping in front of the closed doors to the courtroom I catch my breath and steel myself for whatever outcome. Good or bad.

Harm isn't there yet when I enter. But my whole group of students is. Even Lieutenant Reese is there. We trade glances for a moment. She doesn't seem to feel too good either. When I turn my head I spot Viper. He hasn't been here any other day. I feel like I let him down just by being accused. I tear my eyes away, no longer able to hold his gaze.

I settle down into my now well known seat.

I should calm down about this. We're going to win. I recall Harm's words from yesterday when we briefly talked about it. _"There's no way Mac can still win this one."_ I focus on his words. They are true. They have to be true. However with one decision of the judge I could be dangerously close to losing everything I ever wanted to do in life, everything I've ever been good at. This isn't easy to face.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

"I'll take a little detour," Mac says, pointing to the restroom door to her right.

"Okay, see you in court."

When I enter the court room it is already crowded. It must be the biggest crowd that gathered here during all of the hearing. Nearly all the places are filled. I see all of the current training group of Top Gun, including Lt. Reese. They are all placed behind the Captain. When I walk down the aisle I spot Admiral Metcalf sitting somewhere in the middle on the other side.

"Good morning, Captain," I greet when I settle into my chair at our table.

"To you as well," Mav answers casually before he leans a little closer for his next statement. "So you and Mac, heh?"

I cast a quick and uneasy glance around us. Has somebody heard? But to my relief nobody seemed to have listened in. They probably think that we're talking business here.

"We're working on it." I don't know what made me say that, but the moment the words leave my lips I know that it is true. We are working on a relationship.

"What do you mean, you're working on it?"

"We're taking it one step at a time. There are things we still need to talk about. Things we need to figure out." 'And wounds to heal,' I silently add.

"But you are together?"

"Yeah." I won't suppress the smile that comes on whenever I think about it. "Yet still, it's only the first step."

Mav looks at me like I've gone totally nuts.

"Don't tell me things between you and Charlie always ran smooth."

A relationship always means w

Still totally confused I return my gaze to the bench where the judge has now sat down.

"Good morning." He then stops, realizing what I already saw.

"Why isn't the prosecution present? Commander Rabb, do you know where the Colonel is?"

I rise to speak. "No sir. May I step up to the bench?"

"You may."

When I reach the bench I start to explain what I know only to be interrupted by the bang of the gravel right next to my ear.

"Quiet." The unusual aspect of the missing prosecution led to vivid murmur in the audience, that by now has gotten too much out of hand for the judge's liking.

So when everything is quiet again I start to explain anew. "The Colonel and I arrived here together. She then needed to go to the toilets while I came in here. I haven't seen her since."

"Do you know of anything she might have wanted to do before court?" the judge questions me silently, his hand covering the micro.

"No, Your Honor."

"Okay. I suggest you better find her Commander. Soon. And she better has a good reason for this."

Nodding my head I step back to my chair.

"This court is in recess until further notice."

As soon as I'm allowed to, I turn on my heals and all but run down the aisle. What happened? For all I know Mac could be lying unconscious on the bathroom floor. Was she feeling ill? Was there anything about her that should have tipped me off that things weren't right? I try to recall the morning when inside me diverse worries and scenarios well up all at once. At a moment's notice my mind swirls with pictures of what could have happened. But hasn't she been perfectly fine this morning?

By now I have reached the ladies' room, stopping dead at the door. I know I should storm in there, search for Mac. But something stops me. I'm not supposed to be in there, there could be other women in there as well. However if there was somebody inside, wouldn't they have spotted Mac and called for help. That is, if Mac is in there. But if nobody else is there, Mac could still be lying there unfound.

Then a female Petty Officer passes by me. On impulse I reach out my hand to stop her. With a surprised look she turns to face me.

"Sir?"

"Petty Officer, would you please go in here and see if there is a Marine's Colonel inside." It sounds more like a plea than an actual order, but the woman nods nonetheless.

When the door falls shut behind her Mav catches up with me. "Harm?"

I shake my head. I know no more than he does. Desperately I wait for the Petty Officer to come back out. Endless minutes pass.

"No one in there, sirs."

Immediately I rush past her to have a look myself. I need to make sure. But the woman was right. The room is completely empty. No sign of Mac or that she has ever been here.

Exhausted I lean against the basins. Where is she? Where has she gone? Did she go on her own or was she forced to go?

"Where is she?" Mav voices my thoughts exactly.

I shake my head. If only I knew. But this minute I realize something now that I should have never doubted. She would have told me if she had other things to do. Mac didn't go on her own. Not now of all times. True, she needed to get away before, but that had been different. She had suffered a great emotional loss back then. I won't pretend that I understood why she did have to run from me and hide on a ship in the ocean. However, I do _know_ that she won't run from me now. Not after last night, when her biggest fear was that _I _might be the one to leave her.

Hence, somebody must have taken her. But who and what for?

"Could she have gone on her own?"

"No!" I might have convinced myself she didn't, but Mav sure doesn't know her as well as I do.

This is just fate playing another mean trick on us. Throwing another rock onto the road we need to struggle around. Why can't things be easy for us? Just for once, for one day.

"Then somebody kidnapped her," Mav says, gently placing a hand on my arm to get my attention.

For a few more seconds I drift unfocused in the unfairness of life before the other man's voice finally cuts through my daze and I understand his words.

"Can you think of anybody doing something like this?"

Immediately names pop up in my head. "There are a few. But none of them seems likely." Then I think about Palmer for a second. He used my girlfriend against me once. And he doesn't need any special reason to strike. This could be him.

"But I better check," I tell Mav in a rush before I hurry out of the bathroom. I need to get my cell phone and call Leavenworth. He can't have escaped again. He can't!

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

It's the throbbing headache that pulls me back into consciousness. I feel like I had not one, but several drinks too many. But I can't remember drinking at all. Where there should be memories, there is just a big blur of nothing. However, the dizziness tells me something must have happened.

I try to pry open my eyes. And though I feel they are open I see nothing but darkness. A total and complete darkness surrounds me. I close my eyes again, concentrating on the rhythm of my heart that beats in turn with the pulsating of my head.

I check for the time. 0945. What day? Sunday? Monday?

Thump. Thump.

Monday, definitely Monday. 0945 Monday, oh my god. I should have been in court 45 minutes ago.

I force open my eyes. I need to get up. Why isn't there any light at 0945? There should be some. My headache increases incredibly when I try to sit up. Slowly, very slowly I rise, breathing deeply. In and out. It's your own fault MacKenzie, now bear it like a Marine. No whining.

Thump. Thump.

I wait a minute or two for my head to stop spinning. Then I swing my legs out of bed and start the process of standing up. Finally standing on shaky legs I rest for another moment.

My eyes strained on the darkness I slowly, but relatively steady, make my way to my bathroom. I'll need a considerable amount of cold water to get me going this morning.

But to my surprise I don't find the bathroom where I expected it to be. Instead I ran right into a wall. Though figuring out that it's actually a wall took me a minute or two. The wall feels strangely soft under my hands, like it's upholstered or something. This is most definitely not my place. Where the heck am I?

Carefully I feel my way along the wall. It isn't far from where I started until I reach the first corner. In a slow progress I make my way around the whole room. It isn't big and seems totally empty except for the bed. And all the walls are upholstered like the first one. I've absolutely no idea where I am. I've never been at a place like this before.

But how did I end up here in the first place? In a room with supposedly no windows and a hidden door.

I settle back onto the bed, leaning my head against the soft wall and stare off into the black distance. My headache has lessened somewhat over the past minutes. So I'm now able to think almost clearly.

Court… I should now be in court.

For what?... The hearing of Captain Pete Mitchell… Maverick.

We're in Nevada. We, Harm and I.

Harm. His face appears in front of me in the darkness. I reach out for him. But he's hovering just out of reach. Harm's always been out of reach.

Then, all of a sudden another recollection explodes in my head, coming back to life. Harm's no longer unreachable. He's been with me. We were close. Amazingly close. And he promised we always will be.

Pictures of last night find their way through the darkness to complete the memory I would never wish to forget. And bit by bit the whole day assembles in my brain. The barbeque… the nice time we spent with Charlie and Mav… the morning hunting dinosaur fossils. Once I pulled the plug, the pictures come floating easily. But in the end they leave me with a question still unanswered.

How did I end up here?

I now know I haven't been drinking.

Thump. Thump.

The fog in my brain might have cleared concerning yesterday but it sure keeps obscuring my memory of this morning. Or did I end up here last night after all? So there is nothing to remember about today?

I try to concentrate fully.

We were on our way to court. I needed to go to the toilet. Harm left me with a bright smile.

I stood there in the ladies' room, watching myself in the mirror. I admired what I saw. Just like back at the hotel. I couldn't stop looking. Looking at the happy smile on my lips. Looking at the glow in my eyes. This must be it. The way I look when I am truly happy. For happy I was.

I kept staring on when my spherical vision caught up on something unusual. I shifted my gaze to have a look at the face that appeared behind me. An eerie grin greeted me when our eyes connected through the mirror.

"Colonel." I remember the word to be spoken with a great deal of animosity, like he had to force himself to address me with my rank. It sounded as if he despised me for having it.

I spun around facing the man that had already come close.

"What…" but I was greeted by a blow to the head. And that's when everything went black.

I scan my memory for a face but all I can come up with is this evil grin and a torn image of his eyes looking at me through the mirror. I know I've seen them before. I squeeze my eyes shut. Think MacKenzie, think. You know this guy. But all I accomplish is that my head starts pounding heavily again.

Thump. Thump.

I open my eyes again, exhaling deeply. I can't force it. My mind would come up with the solution in its own time.

This very moment a bright light comes on above me, forcing me to shut my eyes yet again. And then there it is all over again, that voice, that tone.

"Colonel."

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-


	9. Feeling Cold

**- Feeling Cold - **

Harm leans against the board that connects the four sinks behind him. He looks exhausted, like all energy drained from him. His shoulders are slumped, his head slightly bowed down. There is nothing left to remind me of his six feet something frame. Right now he doesn't stand any taller than I.

I focus on his face, try to read his expression. Slowly Harm runs his hand over his face to try to banish the demons that I know are ravishing in his mind. However, he obviously doesn't succeed. His face is still pale and his eyes have gone dull. When Mac had vanished she must have taken something of him with her. There is no other way to explain it.

"Could she have gone on her own?" I ask and am faced with a rushed answer.

"No!" Harm shakes his head. He doesn't want to believe in the possibility and he probably shouldn't. I know I wouldn't if this was about Charlie and me.

But I can tell from the pleading look that was there for a second when he searched my eyes that he still has doubts about it.

"Then somebody kidnapped her."

My hand comes to rest on his arm, not to offer comfort in the current situation – for I know there is none until he knows what happened – but to assure him that I'll be there. That he still has a friend by his side. We might not have known each other for long, but like Mac pointed out we do have some things in common and that forms a bond.

"Can you think of anybody doing something like this?"

"There are a few. But none of them seems likely." His response comes calmly, almost automatically. Maybe there really is nothing to find there.

But the very next moment his heads snaps up and his blue eyes – no longer dull but crystal clear – settle on me although it feels like the man looks right through me. And while I wait for him to say something there's suddenly a spark of life in his eyes. I can't place what I see though. Despair? Horror? Pain? Fear? I don't know. Maybe all combined, maybe none at all.

Then, still silent Harm pushes himself up from the board and rushes out of the door. Wondering what provoked that reaction I hurry after my lawyer. When I round the next corner I see one of the double doors of the court room fall shut.

Most people have left the room by now. Only a few lingered behind still wondering what has happened mere minutes before. I see Viper among them, standing now much nearer to the defense table than he sat. He casts me a questioning glance and starts to step out into the aisle to face me. I shake my head and raise a hand to signal him to wait. First I need to know what it was that I just saw in the ladies' room. Before that I wouldn't know what to tell the Admiral anyway.

I step up to Harm who impatiently walks up and down in front of our table his cell phone pressed to his ear. He stops as his eyes fall on me.

"Commander Rabb here, I need to know about one of your inmates." His voice is firm and urgent.

"Clark Palmer… Fine, but could you please send a guard to his cell to check if he's really in there… I know this guy… Would you send a guard?" This last sentence is no longer a question but an order. His eyes are now fixed on the prosecution table while he waits for the response.

Even for me the minutes drag out incredibly long. It takes forever for the guard to return with an answer. But finally it comes.

"Thank you." Harm says before he closes his phone and carefully lays it on the table. He places his hands on either side of it as if this piece of wood is the only thing to keep him from falling.

"Thank god," he whispers.

The next few minutes pass with neither of us saying a word. I watch as Harm takes some deep breaths to compose himself. The prospect of this Palmer guy being involved must have really gotten to him. By now Viper has arrived by my side. And we both look expectantly at Harm when he seems to get aware of us at last.

"So who's this Clark Palmer?" I ask.

Harm takes another moment before he answers.

"You could call him my nemesis if you like. He's just the type to pull such a thing."

"He would kidnap Mac, Colonel MacKenzie," I correct myself for the benefit of the Admiral, "just to get at you?"

"He did it before."

"He took Colonel MacKenzie before?" Viper asks disbelievingly.

Harm shakes his head. "No, not Mac. But he used my former girlfriend once. He positioned a mirror in front of her, so I saw him but would have shot her if I ever would have fired at him."

My mouth drops open on the evilness of such a thing. How can anybody do that?

"He goes to those lengths?"

A sad nod follows before Harm explains further. "He would. Palmer once posed as my father. Made me believe that he was still alive and calling me. He faked his believe in god just to maneuver me into a trap. And I don't want to know what else his sick brain came up with."

"And he knows that you and Mac are close?"

"Sure he does. I guess he knows everything about me, just like I know everything about him. He once sent her a bloody knife for a wedding present. Trust me; he knows Mac and how much she means to me."

"But he's locked away, isn't he?" the Admiral wants to know.

Another deep breath. "Thank god he is. I made them check. He's still there."

"So it can't be him."

"No it can't."

For a moment we all stay silent, all of us contemplating our own thoughts about a guy like this. How can anybody become like this? How can someone build such hatred?

It's the Admiral who speaks first, "Who else then?"

Harm shrugs his shoulders.

"Could this have something to do with this hearing?"

"The hearing is almost over. What good would it do to kidnap Mac? It wouldn't change anything." Harm shakes his head.

"What are we going to do then?" I want to know.

"I don't know. I might run some names with a friend in Washington, just to be sure. And we should check with the guards at the entrance if there was something odd."

"Commander, you'd better leave this with the base NCIS," the Admiral warns.

"Sir, with all due respect, but they don't know Mac. However, I won't impose with their investigation. I'll just have my own." Harm now stands at attention in front of the Admiral with a perfect about face to demonstrate the seriousness of his reply, totally ignoring the threat this might pose to his career.

I know that there is no way keeping him from it. And obviously Viper realizes the same, as he nods. Both of us would have done the same, faced the situation.

"Okay, Commander. Did you check whether your car is still outside?"

"She wouldn't have gone sir. At least not without telling me." For a short moment his voice has once again gathered this pained tone. The same I heard within his forced "No!" when I implied the same things back in the bathroom.

"Still, we should check. To rule it out, once and for all," I try to calm Harm down and reassure him at the same time.

Waiting for Harm to get his briefcase, the three of us then leave the court room and head towards the stairs and down to the street.

"It's still there." Harm points to a blue Ford that is parked about five meters from where we stand.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

And then there it is again, that voice, that tone. The despise, the coldness.

"Colonel."

The light conjures a red wall in front of my closed lids. It shots up flashes of pain to my brain. Taking another deep breath I prop open my eyes very slowly. First one, then the other. I see bright white greeting me. Everything around me is bathed in the bright light.

I close my eyes again to let them rest for a moment. Next I will them to open again. I need to fight to stare into the light. Small tears build from the brightness. My vision is blurred.

"I hope you like your new place, Colonel." My eyes fixed on a point ahead of me I hear the voice – a man's voice, a young voice – invade my ears. I don't know where it comes from. It could come from directly in front of me. It could come from my right, my left or from out of the room. I still don't see a thing.

"Why am I here?" My tone of voice is totally calm, all business.

"You're not in the position to ask questions, Colonel."

Once again the mention of my rank comes out more ragged and forced then the rest of the sentence. It confuses me. Why use my rank when my name surely is no secret? It's obviously meant to prove a point. But which point?

By now my eyes have adjusted to the light. I can now make out my surroundings. Can see the walls of the small room. It isn't big at all.

There lingers silence. He must be watching me now. Watching as I make no move. I'm still seated at the bed, my head leaned against the wall and my hands folded in my lap. If it wasn't for the circumstances I might have looked relaxed. And exactly that is what I want to portray. That I'm not a bit bothered by the situation I'm in. That I'm capable of dealing with it.

However, inside my head there's a wild raving of thoughts.

From where does he watch? I've felt no windows in the room.

Is there a camera installed somewhere? Most probably.

What kind of room is this? With the upholstered walls it kind of reminds me of a padded cell.

Is there a madhouse somewhere close to the base? It can't be a madhouse, at least not an operating one. There would be too many people.

How far am I from the base?

In a room with no windows and no door, how am I supposed to find a way out? But there has to be a door. A door he got me into this room through. I need to find it and get out of here somehow.

The voice breaks through my whirlwind of questions. "Colonel, you don't have to play it cool. I know you're scared."

"I'm not scared. I'm a Marine." My voice is firm, as is my stance when I get to my feet – a more appropriate position to make my point.

I would really like to know from where he is watching so I could direct my stare right into this cold camera eye of his. It's the best kick-ass-Marine-stare I can muster. So instead I look intently at the far wall hoping it still gets my point across.

Right now it feels like a battle of wills. His wanting to see me broken, mine meaning to keep me strong, to keep me fighting through this. And even though I don't see the man that holds me capture it still seems like we're having a silent conversation. The tension is thick in the air. I wonder if maybe I've gone too far, that maybe I pushed him to do something stupid, something I would regret later, for the silence starts to lay heavy on my shoulders. However, I continue to stare. I won't be the one to back away first. He is right, I'm a Colonel and he's done well to remind me of it.

Then suddenly the light goes out and I'm left in darkness again. I'm not sure who won now. He surely wanted to show me that he still has the power, the power to make my life worse if I choose not to cooperate. But he was the one to withdraw first. He couldn't stand our fight any longer, at least not at present. And shutting the lights down doesn't only mean that I'm no longer able to see, but that he can't see me as well. However, the fact remains that I'm still inside this room and that he has the best control over the situation.

So for a moment or two my gaze stays fixed on the wall. Only then do I slowly drop my eyes to the floor – which for that matter I don't see. I feel my heart pounding heavily in my chest. The adrenaline still runs high in my body. It feels nothing different than just having returned from an actual battlefield.

I take a few deep breaths to calm my raging nerves and straighten my mind. Then I start to walk towards the opposite wall. I need to check this room out more thorough. Beginning in one corner my hands travel over every part of the wall I can reach. Like a blind man my fingers feel over these slight bumps the wall consists of. They move along the edge where the wall meets the floor. They sense the long hairs of the carpet. They reach as far up the wall as I can, standing on tip toes. Carefully and ever so slowly I make my way along the wall. I turn when I reach the next corner. The procedure continues on the next wall. It's the one my bed is propped up against. It's not long before I feel the cold metal of the frame press against my thigh.

Dropping my hands down they as well come in contact with the cold structure. For a second I'm tempted to pull them back. After the softness of the wall the bare frame feels icy on my skin. But I hold on. The coldness quickly spreads through my body, it makes me shiver. And for the first time I realize that the cold is not only coming from the bed, but that the whole room is cold. That the metal construction of the bed only gathered up the temperature that lingered in the room.

When my body adjusted to this new realization I continue to concentrate on the work at hand. There's still the need to check more than half of the room. I'm about to let go of the bed when I decide otherwise. Leaning slightly to the left so I can press my side against the wall, I try pushing the bed into the room. Surprisingly the heavy item gives way easily. Almost soundlessly it glides over the long haired carped. Soon the bed must be standing diagonally in the room, one edge still connected with the wall, the other well into the small chamber. Feeling my way along the bed I head for the other side to as well disconnect it from the wall.

That done I drop down to the floor and skirt over so that my back is leaned against the wall. Closing my eyes I try to catch my breath. Moving the bed might have been easier than I thought but it still exhausted me. I pull my knees up to my chest and hug my arms around them for comfort.

Five minutes go by while I sit there. My breath was normal again after nothing more than two, but ever since I've been sitting here not able to move. I wonder why this has to happen now, now of all times. Why has there always to be a bump in the road? Why can't it run straight for once? Why can't we have a break?

A soft squeak pulls me from my dreadful thoughts. In any other surroundings the quiet sound would be lost, but in this room filled with nothing but silence it rings loud like horn of a passing car. Immediately my eyes snap open and fix on the point where I guess the sound came from. There it is again, the squeaking. It's more enduring now, drawn out longer.

And suddenly I understand what it is. It is the sound of a door – a creaky door. A door somebody opens.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

I lean onto the hood of the Navy issued car and put away my cell phone. I used it to call Bud about the situation. For starters he will inform the General about what happened and then start to look into Mac's recent cases. It's probably a good guess to say that he won't find anything in there, yet still it will calm both our nerves to know for sure. And right now I'm glad that Bud is still willing to do such things when they for sure are no longer a part of his official work.

I meet the questioning eyes of Maverick – for the Admiral left right before my call to Head Quarters – when I let my gaze travel, searching for an answer on what to do next. What is there I can do to find her? I don't even have a clue who took her and why.

Mav holds my glance but keeps silent. He waits for me to decide what to do. After all I'm the experienced investigator. And then I realize what the most logical thing to do is.

"We should check with the posts at the gates; whether they saw something unusual this morning."

Maverick just nods his head before he walks around the car for the passenger's door. For a second I'm surprised that he wants to tag along. Then however I remember that even though he has know Mac for nothing more than a few days he still relates to her as if she were a longtime friend. And he's eager to find her, that he, just like me, can't sit at home being idle when he knows nothing about her whereabouts. So I stand up from the hood and head for my side of the car.

After I unlocked the doors I look at him to signal that he can get in. Our eyes meet over the roof of the Ford in an assuring glance. We're going to find her.

Once inside the car I turn my head and ask, "How many gates are there?"

"Two, the main gate and the south gate," Mav replies while fastening his seatbelt.

I ponder the question where to go for a moment when Mav puts his thoughts in.

"I would suggest we try the southern gate first. If anyone wants to sneak out of the base without attracting too much attention he might choose the less frequented gate."

"But it's most likely he's better remembered there if fewer cars go past there. I think we had better start with the Main Gate." So I turn the key and set the Ford back to head off.

It's not a long drive to the gate but the silence that spreads between us stretches the minutes. It's no uneasy silence, but a laden one. Laden with both our concerns about Mac. So I'm glad when we arrive at the gate and to get out of the car.

"Gunny," I start flashing my JAG ID at the man that occupies the small house by the gate. "We are searching for a female Marine Lieutenant Colonel. Did you happen to see here?"

I'm not very confident that he did. It's very unlikely that whoever kidnapped Mac drove off the base with her in plain sight. And that is given the fact that they actually left the base.

"When did this happen sir?"

"She's been missing for some fifty minutes now." I look at Maverick to confirm my guess. Mac would have known better. He nods his head. "So it could have happened any time since then."

For a long moment the Gunny stays silent, obviously checking through the minutes in question. He then speaks, "Afraid I can't help you sirs. I don't remember a female Colonel." His eyes meet mine for a second before he casts them back onto a point over my shoulder.

"Since when do you man this gate, Gunny?"

"Since 0600 hours."

"And your partner over there?"

"The Sergeant and I arrived together sir."

With a "thank you Gunnery Sergeant," Maverick and I walk over to said Sergeant who stands by the street just outside the gate.

Presenting my ID again I ask, "Did you see a female Lieutenant Colonel today?"

He waves through a car before he answers.

"I'm not sure but I might have seen her. Is she pretty?"

It would have been a normal question if it wasn't for the fact that his questioning glance mixed with a wicked grin and that he is not only speaking of an officer but about Mac all the same. Somewhere in the back of my mind I don't like the way he asked. Because of that I'm tempted to tell him off and not answer the question.

However, Maverick is faster than me and answers. "Yes she is," though in a tone of voice that makes it clear that the Sergeant better watch his tongue. Furthermore he added, "She has dark hair tied up into a bun. So did you see her?"

"I think it could have been her. She was with a Commander."

"When was that?"

"Don't know sir, an hour ago maybe."

A slight suspicion creeps into my mind. "Was she going in or out?"

Another moment of silence.

"In."

I suppress a disappointed sigh. "This Commander would have been me."

He now looks me up and down but gives no sign of any recollection whatsoever.

"Did you see her get out again?"

"No sir."

So much about the slight hope that somebody actually saw her leave the base.

"Did anything odd happen today?" I ask trying some other approach.

"Like what?"

I count down some possibilities, "Like somebody trying to force an entrance, an unusual car, papers that weren't correct. Anything."

He shrugs his shoulders. "The only thing I remember is the supplies car for the O-Club and the CPO-Club. But there was nothing wrong with their papers."

"Then what made you remember the car?" By now my impatience gets more evident in my voice.

"They normally deliver on Wednesday, not Mondays."

Sensing that we should at least check this out, I ask the Sergeant about the details of the car and the company that delivered the things. I end up with the name of a local food provider and the thorough description of the delivery van.

"Anything else?"

"No sir," he says as he waves by another car after a short glance at the offered ID.

"Thank you Sergeant."

"You think they could have kidnapped Mac?" Mav asks once we're on the way back to our car.

"They could have easily put her into the back of the van. Nobody would have seen her. And they came by out of the ordinary schedule."

"So we give it a shot?" I can tell that Mav isn't very much convinced that we already have our kidnapper.

And to tell the truth, neither am I but "It's the only hint we have. So we'll give it a shot." Plus, I never leave something unchecked just because it seems unlikely.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

I often roam the house, look at the pictures. The pictures are all over the place. Some in the master bedroom, a few in the two kids' rooms, but most are displayed in each of the three corridors. They speak of a happy past, of a perfect family. I like looking at them. They show everything I want in my life, everything I'm still searching for.

Once again I pass the decorated wall when I climb the stairs from the cellar. I've just spend another hour in the recording room that is attached to the in-house music studio. Down there I can totally forget about time. Now however I have to report back for duty in half an hour and I need to hurry. Taking two steps at a time I take the stairs further up to the first floor. I head into the second room on the right, the one where my makeshift bed was for the past six weeks. As always when I enter the room I have to smile about the colorful posters of Barney that are all over the place. The first night I wondered how some four year old boy could be sleeping in all this pink and violet. Now I've got used to it.

The bag containing my flight gear and some other stuff stands atop a little children's table in the middle of the room. One day a room like this will belong to one of my children and I'd be no guest in such a house but have all of this of my own – a desirable and devoted wife and a bunch of kids.

When I come back down into the hall of the ground floor I stop my tracks at the top of the downward stairs and listen for a moment. Everything is silent in the house. There's not a sound that could be heard. Satisfied I continue my way to work, closing the door behind me and making sure to lock it twice.

It's almost midday and the streets are relatively empty, making it possible for me to let my thoughts drift some. I think back to the video. The video that captures her movements, that records her day so I can watch when mine is done. I'll know about every tiny thing she does.

Though in the one hour I already spent in front of the screen monitoring her, she hasn't moved much. Ever since I switched the light back on, she remained sitting leaned against the wall starring ahead. She might have played the brave Marine when she first woke up, but as I've zoomed in now, to capture her face she looked lost. I'm sure, that by now she has understood that there is no way out of this room and that I'm the one to be in control – exactly how it should be, how it's destined to be since ancient times.

I saw her move her lips but I couldn't capture her words. I wondered whether she prayed, prayed that I set her free. But I won't, not before she had completely learned her lesson. And that she will. Given the time she will break, she will understand that she is in no way up to me. That no matter how hard she tries to keep up her façade, she's just not strong enough – never was in the first place. I don't know why nobody else sees these things.

However, while I watched her so closely I came to the realization that she is beautiful. I have to admit that much. Have to acknowledge that I like to watch her. Yet this makes her decision all the more wrong. She's not supposed to lead such a life.

I show my ID to the Sergeant at the gate and am free to drive onto the base to blend into the crowd of my brothers in arms while at home the video records her every move.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

When we arrive at the given address somewhere on the western side of Fallon, there's no van to be seen.

"You think that's a good sign or a bad?" I ask Harm once I step up to him beside the car.

He just shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't care. All he cares for right now is to get hold of anybody – and I mean anybody – that might be able to tell him where Mac is. I can tell that he places all his hopes onto this one. That this van, which happened to deliver out of schedule, is the one piece missing to find her.

With quick strides we cross the street and walk up to the door that's nestled at the right corner of the warehouse. A bright sign reads 'Weston Food Supply, the freshest food in the area'. Harm tries the handle and the door isn't locked. He opens it with such a force that it almost slams against the wall.

"Harm!" I try to calm him but he shrugs my hand off of his arm and pushes forward.

Yet despite his hurry and the anxiousness he's probably feeling he still checks his surroundings quickly. But everything is calm, nobody seems to be around.

By the back of the hall I find a room with big glass windows covering most of the walls.

"Harm, over there."

We follow the widest of the passages through the numerous boxes. It leads us right to our desired destination. A man sits slumped behind a desk, obviously asleep. A swift glance around tells me that he's still the only one, apart from us, in this building.

This door opens in our direction and Harm operates it slowly. The man hasn't woken yet, he's still oblivious to our presence. I follow my friend into the room but remain standing near the door while he continues until he is right in front of the desk. For a moment he waits to see if the man would wake up on his own, but when it seems obvious that he won't, Harm slams his flat hand down onto the desk. This produces the desired effect. The man wakes with a start, his eyes darting through the room unfocused. Then they first settle onto me before they finally come to rest on Harm right before him.

"What… what do you want?" The man backs off slightly, pushing his chair away from his desk and Harm.

"Where is your delivery van?" Harm wants to know.

"Why?"

"Just tell me where it is!" Harm's voice is brisk and cold. I've never heard something alike from him.

The man simply shakes his head. Maybe he's all hardened and used to something like that or he's too nervous and shaken to answer.

I go with the nervous and shaken and take a careful step in the man's direction to get his attention before I search for his eyes and say, "This is a Navy investigation. And we need your help." I'm mindful that my voice is calm. I'm merely asking, not demanding. "Can you tell us where your delivery van is?"

For a moment his eyes divert between Harm and me before they settle on me.

"On the tour," he answers slowly.

"You sure?" The tone of Harm's voice jerks the man's attention back towards him.

A simple nod is the reply while his eyes have taken on a panicked look once more.

Silence fills the room after that. I wait for Harm to pose the next question, but there comes none. Unsure about what is happening I glance at Harm and find him looking at me briefly. Then he nods. Is it really that he wants me to go on? I'm no trained investigator, hell I'm not even interested in crime novels. How the heck am I supposed to know how to continue?

Uncertain about what to do next I cast my eyes to the floor to think about something. When I raise them back up and clear my throat I meet the questioning glance of the man behind the desk. Maybe Harm is right, it's probably better for me to carry on.

"Ahm… Why did you supply the Navy base today and not on Wednesday as you used to?" I pose the first question that comes to mind.

"We are closing down for a week, taking a vacation, starting on Wednesday. So we had to reschedule all the appointments for the rest of the week."

This sounds logical to me. So, what else to ask?

"Can you tell me when your appointment with the base was?"

The man nods his head in confirmation and then slowly rolls forward back to his desk, eyeing Harm suspiciously as if he could jump on him any second. We wait a moment with only the clicking of the keyboard cutting through the returned silence.

"Here it is. It was scheduled for 8.20 am."

I calculate the time. 0820 seems pretty early.

"Can you confirm whether your driver was on time?"

"We're always on time," the man states matter-of-factly.

"I believe you. But is there a way to make sure? It's really important."

"Couldn't you guys just call your gate? When I drove the tour it was hell getting on base. All the paper work one had to fill out. You sure still do that, don't you?"

I look at Harm. Why haven't we thought of this? Maybe this was why Viper suggested that Harm had better not investigate the matter himself. We were too close, we can't think straight and get the obvious, not even me.

Slowly Harm pulls out his cell phone and types in the numbers. We all wait for an answer.

"Sergeant, this is Commander Rabb. About the delivery van from earlier this morning, could you look up when it got on base?"

Another moment passed then Harm continued. "And when did it leave? – Thank you Sergeant."

I watch as Harm shuts the phone off and drops his arm to his side. Anxiously I wait for the answer.

"The driver signed out at fifteen minutes to nine." Harm's voice is no longer brisk but sounds defeated.

About the time that Harm and Mac arrived on base? The unvoiced question in my eyes I look at Harm and get a nod. I'm right about the time. They might even have seen the van on their way to base. At quarter to nine Mac was still with Harm. So that pretty much rules the driver of the van out.

"Thank you for your help, sir."

Harm just nods at the man and then walks past me out of the office. I quickly follow.

Once inside the car Harm slams his fist on the steering wheel and exclaims a loud "Damn!"

I remain motionless, just eying him from the side to wait till his anger ebbs away.

"I haven't a clue in the world where to look. How am I supposed to find her now?"

"Harm you're not alone. NCIS is looking into this. And I'm still here to help you."

"Yeah," he waves me off. "But this damn van was the only hint we had and now that went puff. Nobody saw anything. And NCIS isn't much of a help. They know nothing more than we do."

"I know how much you want to find Mac, but you need to calm down. It won't do any good to rage. You can't think straight when your anger controls you."

Harm now turns his head to look at me. For a moment he seems to study me and ponder what I said.

Then he answers. "Yes, you're right. And I'm sorry for what happened in there." He gestures to the warehouse.

"I understand."

"But you were good. Thank you."

"Let's not talk about it. I just wanted to help. Though in the end it turned out to be in vain."

"But that wasn't your fault," he replies while he turns the key and gets us going.

Nearly an hour later, after we checked the southern gate as well and found nothing prosperous, we sit in the O-Club waiting for our lunch.

Harm is lost in planning what to do next. He still rethinks every minute of the day to see if there's something he missed. So far he hasn't come up with anything.

I on my part scan the restaurant to pass the time away. It is relatively empty as of yet, it's still a little early for lunch after all. After a while I see a group of Lieutenants enter. Almost immediately I recognize them as part of what used to my group of the Top Gun course before this whole ordeal started. Upon spotting me and Harm they come over.

"Sirs," Lieutenant Spanks greets.

Behind him I see Sammer and his side kick Frenks, as well as two others. But what surprises me most is that Lieutenant Reese is with them and that it has been her who talked the men into coming over, at least as far as I could tell from watching them.

"Lieutenants." Hearing me respond Harm just looks up and tries a polite smile that doesn't quite work. "Don't you have classes?"

"Not yet sir. We wanted to grab a quick bite before the first one starts," Spanks answers for all of them.

"Then go ahead."

Most of the men already turned around and were about to go when Sammer poses a question. "May we ask if there is any news on Colonel MacKenzie yet?"

I look at Harm but he doesn't look as though he's about to answer so I do. "Nothing yet."

"We're sorry to hear that, sirs." It's Lieutenant Reese who speaks now.

"Thank you." Harm looks up at her.

"Is there anything we can do to help? Question some people; go from door to door to ask if anybody has seen anything?" It's Sammer who offers their help while the others look rather astonished about it.

"I'm not quite sure this will result in anything," Harm says doubt evident in his voice.

"We can still check, just to make sure. We would really like to help." Sammer looks at his friends for confirmation and reluctantly gets them from each of men and quite willingly from Lieutenant Reese.

Harm sighs silently, I more see than hear it though. "Alright. Tell me if you find anything."

"Aye, aye sir." And with that the group of them salutes and then turns around to find a table for lunch.

"You think they might find anything?" I ask once the Lieutenants are settled out of earshot.

"Nope. But I can't think of anything we can do. And if they really want to help they should do it."

"We gonna find her Harm."

He just nods his head.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

It's late, really late. Late enough so the light of day must have given way to the dark of night. But inside this room the light is still bright. If it wasn't for my inner clock I wouldn't know that I'm trapped in this room for more than thirteen hours already. Thirteen hours that passed ever so slowly and in which I haven't come a tad closer to finding a way out. Though by now I at least know what kind of room this is.

When I heard the squeaking earlier this day my eyes diverted to the source of the sound in an instant. What I found took me by surprise. It wasn't exactly a door. It looked more like those doors for cats you install in the actual door. A hand pushed a plate of food through it. I could have jumped up and crossed the room in a few easy strides and grabbed for the exposed arm. But I didn't. I don't know why, but I remained sitting on the floor and just watched. And all too soon the hand was drawn back, the flap closing behind it. I missed my chance. So I stayed at my place, cursing me for my hesitation and starring at the sandwich. I wondered whether it might be poisoned. I wasn't hungry, so I needn't have found out, at least not back then.

After a while the absolute silence started to get on my nerves. Inside this room not a sound could be heard. Even the rustling of my clothes or my sighs were damped down. It felt eerie. And it drove me nuts. Therefore I decided to continue what I had begun before the light had distracted me.

Searching through the room was much easier with the light on. I once again checked the wall I already completed to make sure I hadn't missed anything in the dark. For right now I didn't care whether he saw me searching for a way out. I needed to do something – this much was for sure.

Arriving at the flap I shoved away the plate with the sandwich and the drink to further investigate the opening. It could be operated both ways, but it was way too small for me to crawl through. It was the size I imagined a normal cat flap. A young child might have passed through, but I for sure couldn't. So all that was left for me to do was opening it wide enough to look through and maybe find a hint on where I was. Consequently I lay down flat on my stomach and pulled the flap up so I could see what lay beyond. But behind the door was only darkness. Carefully I stretched out my hand and inched it forward through the door always ready to pull it back if something should happen. But nothing did and I finally came in contact with something solid. Feeling around I figured that he must have build some kind of box around the cat's door, something I couldn't open.

Unnerved I withdraw my hand and backed away. I still had one wall to cover but I was sure to find nothing there as well. The door had been my biggest hope. Slowly I got back up and started on the remaining wall. Cautiously my fingers ran over the soft covering.

Suddenly doubting my chances I leaned my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes. What if nobody would find me? If I didn't find a way out? Would I need to stay here forever? Or would he set me free one day? Kill me?

Taking a deep breath I tried to clear my mind. I shouldn't think about that right now. I needed to concentrate. When I opened my eyes again something caught my eyes. The wall to my right seemed to change its color slightly as it continued towards the door. I took a step back and looked again. Nothing. I leaned my head against the wall. The color definitely changed, and not continuously. I walked along the wall to where I saw the color change. But when I stood in front of it, there was nothing to see again.

Attributing it to the reflection of light I continued further along. However, after just a few moments I found something else. There, right beneath my fingers was a slight joint in the material. I followed it with my finger. Just above the height of my waist the joint formed a right angled and continued further along. Another right angle followed where I had first spotted the change in color. It seemed as if this part of the wall was patched into the rest after everything else had been completed.

For a second I contemplated whether I should try to peel it away with the video camera still watching. But I shot my concerns into the wind, I had already hesitated once too often. Carefully I tried to stick my index finger into the joint to lift up part of the material.

Working concentrated for a long time I finally got enough of the substance peeled off so I could see what lay beneath. My fingers felt the cool surface of glass, something I hadn't expected in the least. More feverishly I started to rip off something more. I needed to see what lay behind the window. Maybe this was my way out.

When I got enough space at last so I could look through, I placed my hands on either side of my face and strained my eyes to see something through the glass.

Slowly my eyes set on a chair first, then a monitor. They roamed the room further but didn't find anything else. This wasn't outside. There was another room, most probably the one where my kidnapper watched me from, though right now he wasn't there. When I was about to withdraw my eyes I spotted something right at the wall to the room I was in. Placed against the wall stood something that looked like a mixer for music. So now at least I knew where I was – in an old music studio.

I looked around the room to see if I could find something to smash the window with but found nothing. The plate would shatter if I throw it against the window and I won't be able to pull the bed against the window so it sprung to pieces.

So here I am, late at night after finally surrendering to the danger of poisoned food when my stomach complained for hours and surviving it. Later I found the plastic potty beneath my bed to relieve myself and happily reached for the drink I had ignored so far.

Now I am lying on the bed that still stands diagonally into the room. I still ponder on how to break the window, but haven't come up with anything. The voice hasn't returned either. Maybe he's out.

Slowly I drift off to sleep, while my beaten mind conjures Harm's picture before my eyes. I want to call out to him, want him to find me and take me home, like he'd done before. In my mind I start to chant his name, over and over again, hoping that maybe it is enough to build a connection between us.

Silently I wonder. 'Can you hear that voice inside of me calling out your name?'

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-


	10. Instinctive Action

Just wanted to say a quick "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Hanukah" to all of you. And thanks for reading this.

* * *

**- Instinctive Action - **

I watch as the day's first rays of light filter in through the window, slowly creeping over the wall. When I came back last night I didn't bother to shut the blinds before settling for the night. They are still the way Mac left them in the morning or even the night before. So with sleepy eyes I now watch as the breeze outside lets the shadows of a tree dance against the light color of the wall.

I lie in her bed, facing the open door between our rooms and my bed just opposite me. But I can't look there, so instead I stare at the tiny patterns of light and shadows. There is absolutely no logical reason as to why I can't look at – nor sleep in, for that matter – my bed. This is absolutely emotional. Only 24 hours ago Mac was there with me, lying in my arms, her soft and even breathing like music in my ear. These two mornings feel like they are worlds apart. And somehow it was easier to slip into her bed last night when I was all by myself. I don't know why though, because this bed, even more so then the other, holds a hint of her scent. I can smell it when I bury my nose in the pillow.

For long hours I waited for sleep to overtake me, to escape from reality, at least for the hours of the night. But my mind kept pondering those questions I tried to answer all day long. Where is she? Is she okay? Who might have taken her and why? But just like all day I found no satisfying answer.

And when I at last drifted off into sleep it didn't ease my mind as I hoped it might. Images of her smile as well as images of what might have happened to Mac raced through my mind. So it was a fitful slumber at best. Maybe some disturbed two or three hours at most, before the horn of a passing car woke me up way before dawn, resulting in the fact that I kept staring at the increasing amount of light that floods in through the window.

Every other time I might have liked the minute drawings on the wall but right now they hold nothing beautiful. For everything seems dull when my mind concentrates on nothing but Mac and that she isn't with me. I've had days like these before. Especially during those days or rather weeks we were hardly on speaking times. But back then it had been different. I've been secretly in love and it was my fault that I was in that misery. However, now it was neither her nor my fault.

I must have drifted off to sleep once more because when I open my eyes and focus on the sunlight after what just felt like seconds, the light has moved further up the wall, now covering a larger area. Wanting to turn on my back I find that I hug the pillow close to me, my nose filled with the remnants of her perfume. For a moment I feel like she's here with me. Furthermore there's this other feeling somewhere in my subconscious mind that during these last minutes of sleep I got closer to finding the answer I've been searching for. Yet I can't seem to keep hold of it. Like a fading dream it slips from my grip every time I reach out for it.

Finally I give up, surrendering to a fading dream. Reluctantly I let go of the pillow, which easily might have distracted my senses and conjured this feeling in the first place, and get out of bed.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

My office is silent except for the returning noises from the nearby runway, roaring engines of the starting squadron – my training squadron that is. Twenty young pilots starting on a new mission, to gain more points for the Top Gun trophy. I wish I could be out there with them, sitting in my F14 and pushing them to their best. But I'm stuck here behind my desk with things in a deadlock and with nothing to do, not even paperwork. I wish I were able to do something, anything.

Leaning back in my chair, I turn slightly to look at Harm. He stands at the window looking outside. I can tell that he wants to do something about the situation as much as I do. I can see it in the way his shoulders are slumped, clearly showing that the situation rests heavily on his shoulders. From the short time I've known him, I understood that Harmon Rabb isn't a man to just stand by and wait for something to happen. He has to take part in it, has to be the first in line. A brief image of Mac passes my mind as I think of the Marines that always want to be the first in line. These two belong together like nothing I've ever seen. And without her he isn't complete. I might not have known him long, yet I can tell that Harm is different when Mac is around, that somehow she adds something to him, that isn't there now, that he has lost his spirit maybe, or only his lightheartedness. Whatever it is I hope he gets it back soon, as the man whose back is now turned towards me looks torn.

Suddenly a sigh escapes his lips and he heavily slams his fist down onto the windowsill, yet he doesn't speak.

"Harm?"'

"I'm tired of this," he says, turning around to lean against the window behind him.

I nod my head, I know he is and there's nothing to say about it. I understand how he feels, how it is to feel helpless.

"I'm tired of waiting for something to happen. I need to be out there, searching for Mac. I need to get her back. How am I supposed to remain sitting here and do nothing?" His voice sounds angry, but I know that it's more despair than real anger.

Tiredly Harm rubs his closed eyes with his right hand. I doubt that he got much sleep last night.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

With his eyes still closed he softly answers, "Not much."

For a moment I'm surprised that he so willingly answered with what I believe to be the truth.

I know that what I'm going to say next will do nothing to help him, yet I feel like I need to say it, to make him understand that it isn't his fault that he isn't out there searching for the woman he loves.

"Waiting is all we can do right now, Harm. Wait till NCIS finds her or at least a hint we can follow."

"What if they don't find her? Am I supposed to wait forever, to never know?" He shakes his head. "I can't do that again. Not with Mac. She is my life, Maverick," Harm says in a small voice.

He leans his head back against the glass for a second, then pushes himself up from the windowsill and starts to walk across the room. He comes to a halt on the opposite wall in front of the side board. He leans forward slightly, placing his hands on the furniture, hanging his head.

"There must be something I can do."

I get up from the chair I've been sitting in and close the distance between us. I stop right next to him, our shoulders almost touching.

"Harm –" I start but am interrupted by him.

"There always is. There's been when I went to Vietnam to search my dad. There was when Mac went to Paraguay. There is even something we could do about this whole baby deal."

I know what he refers to concerning his father, but I'm lost at what the rest of his rambling means.

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I softly say, "Harm, I know it's hard to accept –"

Once again his voice interrupts me. "You wouldn't be saying this if it was your wife being gone. You would try everything to find her, wouldn't you?" His eyes settle on me.

I nod my head, yes I would. And I wouldn't listen to whoever told me my attemps were in vain. I would ignore everybody until I found her. Therefore it pains me even more to keep telling Harm the truth, to see his growing despair.

"See, I'm not saying we can do absolutely nothing, we might be out to find her as soon as in a few minutes. But for now we've run out of ideas. We don't know where to look, do we?"

Harm straightens under my touch so my hand slips from his shoulder and loses contact. His eyes divert from me and settle on the wall in front of him instead. For a moment he doesn't move.

But all of a sudden he points his finger at a spot on the wall, which is covered with an area map of the NAS Fallon and the town.

"There, this is what we can do. We will go there," Harm exclaims, his voice sharp and strong.

"What?" I don't understand what he is trying to tell me. Why we needed to go to a randomly chosen – as this is how the point on the map looks to me – place in the town of Fallon.

"We should check this block out. There is something about this area."

"How do you know? Have you ever been there?"

Harm reads through the map before he finally shakes his head, no.

"Then why the heck do you want to go there? You know, doing something irrational wouldn't help you find Mac." I realize that this came out angrier than I intended it to be, but Harm totally confused me with his latest actions and they do seem pretty irrational to me.

"Fine, you can sit here and wait. I'll go there and have a look around," Harm answered defensively but certainly somewhat enraged.

I raise my hand to stop him before he could turn around and walk out on me. "I'm coming, but could you at least try to explain to me how you came up with this idea."

Harm sighed and then slightly nodded his head.

"Did I tell you how they found me that night I crashed into the Atlantic?"

"No, both you and Mac simply told me that it was the night before her wedding."

"Yeah, well," he starts, then hesitates, looking spaced out for a moment. I wonder what he remembers. "Mac found me."

"Mac found you? She was out there?" This only gets more and more confusing.

"No. She was in Washington. But she'd seen me, told the SAR crew the coordinates." Okay so now I'm convinced this is some crazy idea, born of a desperate mind.

I must have shot Harm a skeptical glance as he continues, "You know, Mac has this ability." Another pause, as if he searches for another, a better word to describe it. "She sees things."

"So Mac is a medium, with paranormal talents?"

Harm shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know how to explain it, even though I experienced it first hand. But Mac found me in the middle of a stormy nowhere. And she found her little sister in the same way."

I shake my head to absorb everything I've heard so far. This sounds so odd, yet I already know about Mac's time-telling ability. So maybe; I just don't know.

"Look Mav, I know this is hard to believe. Yet I can't believe any different cause I owe my life to this ability of Mac's."

"Harm, I'm not sure what I should think about Mac being able to do this. But I know the both of you and that you somehow connect on a different level. I also believe that there is an especially strong bond between you, a bond that might have helped Mac to locate you. Yet still I don't see how this could help us now. Now that _we_ need to find _Mac_. Unless you are able to trace her location as well," I reason with a calm voice.

"I won't pretend that I know how this works, or that I have ever found someone that way. All I know is that I have a gut feeling, that we should check this out." He taps his finger at the place on the map he'd pointed out before. "It's not that we have anything important to follow," he justifies, trying to plead his case.

"Okay," with a glance at his face, which looks desperate and pleading, I give in. What is there to lose? "But one thing I'm curios about though. How come you and Mac have a mental connection that strong that she can find you in the middle of an ocean, yet neither of you could figure out the other's feelings?"

Harm shakes his head again. I'm not sure, but I might have caught a whispered "If only I knew", when Harm turns around and starts to head for the door.

I throw a quick glance at the map to remember where we need to go before I head after him, grabbing my cover on the way out.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

When I wake later than usual again, I find that the room is dark once more. I take this as a sign that the guy must be back. The mysterious man, that I only know by voice, a voice I'm sure I've heard only recently, maybe even connected to this case. So once again I close my eyes and try to solemnly focus on the voice. I manage to conjure pictures of men I've met, try to remember their voices and compare them. But none of these matches. I still haven't got any clue on who had taken me and why.

Then another thought invades my mind; has he already realized, that I peeled away some of the wall covering and had a brief look at what lies outside?

I get my answer as soon as I try to get up from the bed, for I can't. My hands are bound to the bed frame above my head. Arching my back I try to have a glance at them. They are tied at the wrists, a little over shoulder width apart. Around the right one wraps a red bond, from the feel of it it's silken, a scarf maybe. The other is wrapped with something yellow – it looks old and well used. Both hands are fixed to the bed identically, the bands running around my wrists a few times before they tie in a knot close to my arm, just so that I can't reach it with my fingers. So that is why I haven't felt the cold metal before, the bonds protect my skin from the contact.

When finally my back screams in protest due to the odd position I'm in, I relax and lie flat on my back again. Closing my eyes I concentrate on my attached hands. I wriggle them here and there, but there's no way of loosening the knot – it keeps a tight fit, just enough that I can move my hands a few inches around the two upright bars they are tied to.

Thinking about it, I realize that there indeed must have been something in either the food or the water I got yesterday. Otherwise I would have noticed somebody tying my arms. And it's all the more reason for me to wake up this late.

After a while I stop my movements. They are in vain, I don't make any progress. Yet lying still wouldn't help me either. But after some time I have another idea. If I could somehow manage to turn around to actually face my bound hands, I might be able to open the knot with my teeth. Thus I slowly roll over onto my stomach, crossing my arms in the process. Thankfully they are bound in a way that my wrists don't snap. Next I push my hands to the highest position I can reach, just where the upright bars meet the horizontal one. After that I slowly pull one leg towards my chest, then the other. In a procedure that isn't exactly painless I finally manage to come to sit in front of the bed's headboard, my legs crossed Indian style.

Almost immediately I lean forward for the first of the two knots. Yet this is the moment I hear something that makes me stop.

I turn my head to look at the door, the one place where that sound could have come from. I steel myself for what I expect to happen next. For I am sure, that my kidnapper has come for me, figuring that tying me to the bed isn't enough punishment. I can't help but be reminded of Paraguay, even though this situation is different. But once you have experienced something that cruel, the slightest resemblance, the slightest hint of something similar to happen, makes your remember it all.

But whatever I expected isn't what I see. What I see shakes me to the very core.

"Harm," I whisper breathlessly.

There is nothing more I can think of, when I see the man I love standing in the door. All the relief and the fear – though I won't admit it to anyone besides myself – comes crushing down on me the moment I know he's here.

"Mac!" His voice is louder than mine, more rushed.

With a few quick strides he's by my side, dropping down on his knees next to the bed. His hands move up to frame my face. I instantly feel their warmth spread through my whole body. I lean into his touch as much as I can.

After a long while that we just sat there, Harm leans in and his lips contact mine. What started as a sweet hello quickly speaks of all the passion and our feelings, of how much we missed the other, and not only this last day but all these years and it tells me about the fear that we both had, that we might loose each other for good.

When we part I rest my forehead against his, breathing deeply. I need to calm down the turmoil that's raging inside of me.

Harm then gently runs his hands down my arms and stops at the wrists where they are tied to the cold structure. Quickly he works his fingers to untie the knots. First one, then the other and my hands are free. Unconsciously I rub my wrists, more due to the knowledge that I can, than the fact that they actually hurt.

Once the bands, the yellow and the red one, hang loosely on the frame Harm settles down next to me on the bed and gathers me in his arms. We stay like this for what seems like forever, neither of us saying a word, but instead listening to our breaths and the sound of voices drifting into the room every now and then. But the voices are distant and don't seem to bear any connection to the two of us sitting on the bed.

However, the silence has to be broken sooner or later. And it's Maverick who does so.

"Glad to see you okay, Mac," he says, stepping up to the bed before he continues. "NCIS took him back to base."

I feel Harm nod against my head but need a moment to understand what they were talking about.

"Who was it?" I ask looking up to meet Harm's eyes.

Both men exchange a quick glance before Mav answers, "Lieutenant Sammer."

I must look confused for Mav goes on. "You've met him in court, he was on the stand."

And then it snaps – the voice finally connects to a face. I shake my head, who would have thought.

Now that the identity of the kidnapper is cleared, there's one other thing I need to know.

"How did you find me?"

Again Harm and Mav share a brief and silent dialogue before Harm starts to explain.

_I briefly divert my eyes from the street to my side where Maverick sits. Neither I nor Maverick speak as we drive into town and turn north. I didn't know it before, but I am glad that he was willing to come along. For some reason it actually feels like a sound decision to get to the place I've just picked from the map when somebody else agrees to join you. _

_I don't know how I came to pick the street in the first place. But the moment I read the name something clicked in my head and I knew that was a place to look for Mac. All my body felt it, the feeling I had this morning was back – I felt like she was standing right beside me. It felt so real._

I first look at Maverick to see him shake his head. He probably still can't believe that Harm truly trusted his feelings and that they obviously worked out.

Then my eyes lock on Harm before I softly ask, "So you did see me?"

"It wasn't like the day on the USS Hornet where I saw the Lieutenant. But as I said, I felt your presence so close, that I knew you were here."

My arms wrap a little tighter around Harm for a moment to show my thanks, before he continues with his story.

_I drive the car slowly up the street I've chosen, looking at each of the houses. Most of them are well kept family homes with green lawns and toys outside. Some are older, in need of a little maintenance and paint. However, none looks like a place to keep a kidnapped marine. Maybe my feeling was wrong, maybe this isn't the place after all and Maverick was right all along. I don't know anymore. _

_By the end of the street I stop the car. I lean my head back in defeat. I try to fight the feeling, convince myself that Mac will be found, yet the glimmer of hope that burned inside of me since I left Mav's office is now gone, leaving a cold feeling behind._

_"Do you really think Mac is somewhere around here?" Mav asks sympathetically._

_I answer with closed eyes. "I'm not so sure anymore. Just look at all the houses." I don't even feel a hint of her presence around._

_"But you were sure before we came here, right? And you normally trust your guts, don't you?"_

_"Yes, but –" I trail off._

_"So why don't you now. Harm, this is the woman you love, you can't give up now."_

_I open my eyes in surprise. I didn't expect that to come from him, especially after he's been so skeptic about my methods just some short time ago._

_"Turn the car around and we'll have another look at the houses, maybe we missed something," he says in a voice that makes me comply with his request._

_So I start the car again and slowly turn it around. At a moderate speed we head down the way we came, each of us scanning one side of the street. We're almost at the end of the lane when something catches Maverick's eye._

_"Harm stop. Look over there." He points a little ahead to a neat white house._

_I have a closer look and find a man walking to the back door. The man wears the Navy uniform. Then I become aware of another thing – I know this man._

_"Isn't that Lieutenant Sammer?"_

_"Yes, that's him."_

_"I thought he's living on base," I say while we watch the lieutenant disappear into the house._

_"Thought so too, the classes normally do. How about we pay him a visit and ask him whether he's seen something odd around here."_

_So the both of us emerge from the car and take the short walk towards the house Mav first pointed out. Once we arrive Maverick rings the bell. We wait for quite a while before the door finally opens. The moment the lieutenant realizes who is standing outside his door his face changes from nonchalance to surprise and back to indifference. But somewhere in the process there was something else, something I might call fear or horror. But it is gone so fast I'm not sure it was even there._

_"Captain, Commander. I didn't expect to see you here." To my ears his words seem pressed, though he managed to get them out without stuttering._

_"Lieutenant, the commander and I would like to ask you some questions. May we come in?"_

_Upon hearing the question the look of horror is back in the lieutenant's eyes, and this time I'm sure about it. For a moment he ponders Mav's question, most probably trying to find a way out. In the end however, he opens the door further and let us enter._

_"Do you live here?" Maverick asks while he proceeds into the adjoining room, the kitchen._

_To me it seems that the lieutenant follows him rather reluctantly. This combined with his earlier behavior strikes me as a little odd. There is something about this young man that rings my bells. Having a quick look around the hall I follow them as well._

_"It's my friend's house. But he and his family are on vacation right now, so they let me use it."_

_The three of us remain silent after that, thinking about what to say next. It is the lieutenant who first speaks._

_"Sirs, with all due respect, but why are you here?"_

_It's Mav who answers, "We got a hint that Colonel MacKenzie might be around here somewhere. And when we saw you, we thought that we might ask whether you seen her or something odd."_

_Again, when Mav mentions Mac's name I swear the lieutenant went pale for a moment. And he takes his time to answer._

_"No sirs, nothing. All the people around here are non-military. I don't think they would know the Colonel."_

_I'm about to start questioning Sammer further, I need to know what he knows, what he has to hide, but Mav beats me to it and instead bids his goodbye to the lieutenant._

_Once we are outside and back on the street I turn around and face Maverick._

_"This guy has something to do with Mac's disappearance, I just know it. Why did you let him off the hook? Did you see the way he acted when he saw us, when you mentioned Mac's name?"_

_"We don't know for sure."_

_"Yeah, but if you would have given me half an hour at most, I would have had all the information we need. That guy in there," I point back to the house behind Maverick, "isn't up to my tactics."_

_"But I thought it best to leave him and monitor him. And I'm the senior officer here." I'm surprised that Mav pulls that card on me, yet this game can be played by two._

_"I'm the JAG officer. I do know how to run an investigation, how to question a suspect." My voice is angry now._

_"But not when you're driven by emotion."_

_Ouch, this sentence hits too close to home for me to respond anything. I still remember the day Mac said it to me. So instead I stalk away towards our parked car._

_A moment later Mav joins me in the car._

_"Let's drive around the block and then watch the house," he says._

_As much as I'm tempted to go back to the house and grill the man, I begin to think about the advantage a surprise attack holds. So I get the motor running and set us in motion._

_Not ten minutes later we're parked in the street again, now farther away from the house. For another ten I remain calmly on my seat, but as nothing happens I get tenser by the second. In the end I can't bear it any longer and have to get out of the car._

_That's when I decide, that I will return to the house. When I start in the direction, I hear the car door open behind me and then "Harm". As I don't react, the next thing I hear is a slightly louder "Commander". But I'm not going to let Maverick hold me back._

_I slip past one of the houses some way down the road from Sammer's house and head for their backyard. I plan on approaching the suspect's house from the back._

_After a short while I can feel and hear that Maverick is walking slightly behind me. But I don't turn, yet I silently thank him for his company._

_Quickly we reach the back door of the house we've been in a few minutes ago. I glance through one of the windows and look into the kitchen. It's no surprise he isn't there anymore._

_When my hand comes to rest on the doorknob Maverick tries to warn me once more._

_"Harm."_

_But I just shake my head. I need to know. And I need to find Mac._

_Carefully I turn the knob and thankfully the door opens. Silently the two of us slip into the house. For a second we stand in the kitchen, scanning our surroundings, we're now on a mission._

_There's one door, the door we used before, that leads into the hall. And there's a second door. We opt for the second, as we don't want to prevent being seen in the hall._

_This second door leads into a joined dinning and living room. A quick glance around tells us that there's nothing of interest in here. So we take the next door on the right._

_Once we emerge from the room we find ourselves standing at the top of stairs, which lead downwards. I silently motion for Mav that we should follow them. After all a cellar is the place where to hide somebody best._

_Without a sound the two of us take the stairs down. Reaching the bottom we turn left. I check the first door, but it's locked. We proceed on to the next._

_This one is open, but it's an empty room apart from the Laundromat that stands in one corner and the dryer next to it._

_There are two more doors left._

_Opening the next, I immediately know what it is. This is a private music studio. So the next room must be the recording room. We see a mixer and some other equipment. But apart from that the room is empty, no Mac._

_That leaves another unchecked door and the locked room._

_I proceed further to the door while Mav walks into the music studio._

_The first thing I register about this last door is that there's a flap door in it, which I find strange. It surely doesn't belong there. The next thing is that there is a bolt that looks brand new to me. A recent addition I guess._

_But before I could really wonder about any of this, Mav approaches me and says, "Mac's in there. Go, get her. I'm calling the NCIS and search for Sammer."_

_He doesn't have to tell me twice. Immediately I pull back the bolt and open the door. And there she is, in the middle of the room, sitting on a metal framed bed. The look in her eyes tears at me heart._

When he finishes his explanation Harm kisses my temple and I snuggle a little closer to him.

"Mav, how did you know Mac was in here?" I hear Harm ask.

"You saw the video, didn't you?" I precede the other man's answer.

"Yah, there was a paused picture of you on the monitor. It looked like you were asleep, or –" he trails off shaking his head.

I'm not, so no need to think about it.

"What happened after you went back upstairs?" I change the subject.

"I found Sammer on the second floor, in a children's room. He was getting ready for duty."

_The rage boils inside me. I'm not sure that Mac isn't dead, but I truly hope that she's only asleep. I take two stairs at a time, not trying to be silent anymore. I need to get to that man. _

_Just to make sure I quickly check into both the kitchen and the living room but Sammer still isn't there. So he must be upstairs, for I hope that he hasn't already left the house._

_When I reach the topmost stair my breathing falters and I need to stop for a brief moment to catch my breath. But it's not longer than a second before I sense somebody looking at me. Shifting my eyes slightly to the side I find Sammer looking at me, totally shocked. For a moment neither of us moves._

_Then I leap forward and run to the room he just backed away into. I can tell that he's still in shock, for he moves slowly, his eyes fixed on my. After two more steps he hits the wall behind him. Suddenly his head starts to shift right and left, searching for a way out. But there is none. I keep blocking his only way to the door._

_Slowly I take a step closer. And another one. I stare at the man I once thought to be a proper Navy officer. How could I have been so wrong? How could he mislead me for so long?_

_Sammer's eyes are fixed on me when I finally come to a stop just one step in front of him. And he never saw it coming, when my fist connects with his nose forcefully. Immediately his hands shoot up to cover the damage. But they don't keep the first droplets of blood from falling onto the floor. I hear a soft whimper coming from him when his fingers touch the bridge of his nose._

_I keep staring at him while I reach for my cell phone to call the authorities. He doesn't dare to move._

"Thank you Mav," Harm says when Maverick finishes.

"Not a problem. I still can't believe it was him?"

"Do you know why he did it?"

"No, he didn't say," Mav answers Harm's question.

The next question Harm whispers into my ear. "How about I take you to the hotel, marine?"

I only nod my head. So Harm gets up and pulls me into a standing position as well. My hand comes to rest in his.

Thus hand in hand we leave the house, Maverick walking right behind us.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-


	11. Playing With The Boys

A new chapter, finally. And the good news is that I have the next one, which will also be the last, already finished and at my beta. So you won't have to wait too long for it.

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

**-Playing With The Boys-**

We've driven the way back to the hotel in silence, both of us hanging onto our own thoughts. And only when we enter her room does Mac speak again.

"I think I'm going to take a bath to relax."

"Sure," I simply answer before I walk over to the window while Mac opens the bathroom door.

About half an hour later, I knock on the door and wait for an answer. But there is none. So I slowly press down the handle and open the door to see how Mac's doing. The moment it is open wide enough for me to see her, I'm immediately reminded of Ciudad del Este, the first and last time I've seen Mac in a tub. However, now it's a different picture that I see. Mac lies in the tub, all covered with bubbles, her head resting on the edge behind her and her eyes are closed. I can hear her breathe evenly. Maybe she's fallen asleep.

I softly say her name, "Mac", as I keep watching her across the small room from my place at the door.

Hearing her name, Mac turns her head slightly and opens her eyes.

"Hi, Harm," she smiles. But it's a tired smile.

"Are you tired?"

She nods, "a bit".

After a while that we kept just looking at each other, Mac asks, "What do you have there?" nodding her head in the direction of my hands.

I pull my eyes away from her and look down at my hands where I hold a cup of hot chocolate I've ordered from room service.

"I thought you might want something sweet," I say looking back up at her and meeting her eyes.

Her smile gets a little brighter and she starts to shift in the warm water, trying to sit up. I take the two steps to the tub, as said this is not a big room, and wait for her to get comfortable again.

Once she's all settled, more upright now, just so that I can see the tops of her breasts above the water, she reaches out her hand to receive the cup. For a brief moment our fingers touch and I can feel the usual electric charge shooting through my body. And from the look in her eyes, I guess that Mac can feel it too.

Then the contact of her fingers and the warmth of the cup are gone and all that remains is the gentle pricking.

Mac takes a first sip from the chocolate before she articulates a sighed "mmh" and closes her eyes.

"Thank you, Harm."

I just nod my head before I turn, with a last glance at her, to walk out of the room.

"Would you mind staying?" Mac's voice surprises me the moment my hand comes to rest on the handle and I'm about to pull the door shut behind me.

I turn back around and meet her eyes looking questioningly at me.

"If you want me to," I say.

Mac nods her head and responds, "I could use some company".

So instead of closing the door from the outside, I now do so while I'm still in the bathroom with her. I once again take the two steps to the tub. Looking around I search for a place I could settle down. In the end I choose the floor, with my back leaned against the tub and my legs stretched out in front of me.

The moment I settle down and relax, I start to feel tired as well. I didn't know that I was that exhausted. In fact I thought that I was doing alright, while I stared out of the window in Mac's room and waited for her to come back out. However, now that the moist warmth of the bathroom surrounds me I can feel fatigue rushing through my veins and I remember that I haven't slept much the night before. With a sigh I close my eyes and let my head fall back.

"Are you alright?" Mac's question gently hovers through the room before it meets my ears.

"Yes." And after a short pause I add, "I just realized how glad I am that we are here right now… together". My voice breaks with the last word, when suddenly all the fears I had these last hours when she was missing, once again come crushing down on me.

I swallow hard, trying to suppress them; they are no longer important. Mac is back with me I tell myself. And it helps. But only when I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her and the smile that dances on her lips and in her eyes am I truly convinced and the fears shrink to a small ball that settles somewhere in the depth of my guts to get enlarge again every other time, for I know that these fears never will completely disappear – I care too much for her, I love her too much for that to ever happen.

"So am I. This is exactly where I wanna be," Mac says in a whisper that sounds strong and firm nonetheless.

A grin spreads over my face and I can't help but make the next comment: "Where? In a tub in a hotel in Nevada."

I'm instantly rewarded with a grin and a splash of water that hits the side of my head and starts running down my neck.

"Hey," I protest.

With laughter in her voice Mac replies, "You begged for it, sailor", before she thrusts the now empty cup into my hand. "Here, make yourself useful."

Out of impulse I grab the cup with one hand, while the other reaches for her wrist and closes around it. I pull her hand closer towards me, forcing her to slip forward in the water as well. I bring her hand close enough to my lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. Once Mac feels the contact she stops struggling and her hand relaxes in my grip. I smile as I place more kisses on each of her knuckles. Meanwhile my eyes are fixed on her face and I can see her smile.

With a last pull I drag her a little closer. Then I lean forward to touch my lips to hers.

When we part I whisper tenderly, "There's no place I rather be, than with you, Sarah. Even if it's in a tub in a hotel in Nevada."

For a moment we remain like that, in silence and our foreheads resting against each other.

I'm the first to withdraw and settle into my old position against the tub. I watch as Mac reaches for her shampoo and starts to wash her hair. When she is all finished I stand up to get her a towel and wrap her in it. Mac just smiles at my antics and lets me continue. One day I will have to ask her just how much helping and caring she can stand. But not now, today I need to do this to reassure me that she's back with me for real.

The rest of the day we spend in her room, watching TV, having lunch and dinner from room service and talking and laughing. We however don't talk about what happened the last day, though; right now is not the proper time for that.

We decide to go to bed early when neither of us can follow the TV program any longer. After all the both of us have at least one night of sleep to catch up with. The last thing I see before I drift off is Sarah MacKenzie, whose head rests peacefully on my chest.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

I'm in this small room again. There's nothing in here but a table and two chairs. I sit in one, staring at the dull grey wall opposite me. I've always pictured an interrogation room with one of these wall-covering one way windows. But this room doesn't have a mirror. I wonder why.

The guys that brought me here yesterday, NCIS they said, sat me in this room first thing – before anything else happened. I was left alone for an hour, studying the walls that held nothing worth noticing; not even the tinniest crack.

Once the door was finally opened, two men entered. One of them, the older took the chair across from me while the other came to stand to my right. I turned my head, forced to look up at the Lieutenant. Yet it was the other that spoke.

"He's your assigned counsel. He'll represent you throughout your trial."

It was the first time I actually heard about a court martial and it kind of brought it home.

"Unless you want to call your own lawyer," the older continued.

I shook my head while the Lieutenant shoved a paper towards me.

But again the other explained: "Sign this."

I read briefly across the page then signed my name.

"The Lieutenant's not going to say anything," my counsel addressed the other man speaking for the first time since they entered.

"Fine, we have enough evidence anyway. We've caught him with the hostage still in his hold. No need to have a confession. There's no way for you…" He pointed his finger at me, "to get out of this."

With this he stood and left the room. The Lieutenant – I didn't ask for his name yet, I realize – took the vacated chair instead.

"From here on out, I'm the boss and you gonna do what I think best for you. You only talk when I say it's okay for you to talk. Otherwise your chances, which are slim already, will fade to nothing. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

"Before I go now, how about you tell me why you kidnapped the Colonel?"

I nod my head but then shake it. There was something else that bothered me right then.

"If they find me guilty, how much punishment can I expect?"

For a second there I was sure that he rather would have corrected my 'if' into a 'when', but in the end he said something different. "Maximum punishment is dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and allowances and confinement for life without the eligibility for parole." It sounds as if he quotes the UCMJ. "And that's only for kidnapping, but you gonna be accused of a lot more Lieutenant."

For someone who never even expected to get any punishment, this seemed pretty harsh and I'm still trying to somehow adjust to the prospect of it. And to top it all off, I'm sure that my counsel isn't too eager to help me.

"So how about the why? It might help me find a way to defend you."

"Isn't that obvious? I just wanted to help that woman make the right decision, show her that she doesn't belong in the military. No woman can ever think of being equal to a man. Defending our country is a man's job. No woman will ever be strong enough for that, not mentally and not physically.

"Where the heck will we end up if women go to war and men stay at home? She should have understood what's been established since ancient times and for a good reason."

For a moment, there lingered silence in the room.

Then my lawyer said, "I'll be back tomorrow to explain our strategy."

And without a further word he left as well.

So now I sit here again, waiting for him to show up like he said he would.

But it's not him who enters now. It still is a lawyer, but not mine. It is Commander Rabb who takes the empty seat without ever saying a word. We eye each other in silence for several minutes.

"Why?" he finally asks with an angry glare.

I wonder whether I should keep silent and wait for my lawyer, but then I discard my thoughts – what harm could it do? – and once again explain. But from the look on his face I can tell that he can't or probably doesn't want to understand. The women he's working with, must have already intoxicated his mind – which absolutely proves my point that women only weaken the military order.

Immediately after I've finished the Commander leans forward and starts talking to me in a voice laden with anger and disbelieve.

"Lieutenant, you must have got some wires crossed. Women have proven themselves in the armed forces for years. And if you can't cope with that, _you_ are the one that doesn't belong."

For a short while we both stay quiet again. But then I see his eyes light up for a brief instant and it somehow scares me.

"That is why _you_ manipulated Lieutenant Reese's oxygen mask. Because you couldn't stand her being better than you. That was why you were so eager to help the Captain. You knew he was innocent."

"Yeah, how could I let the Captain lose his career about something he didn't do?"

"I don't understand you," are his last words before Rabb as well leaves me alone.

Some men just don't understand.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

This morning we came to base earlier than usually. Harm wanted to talk to Sammer personally – I would have so liked to have a little talk with him as well, but NCIS just wouldn't let me get near him, so Harm went instead. And it turned out much better than any of us would have thought.

After learning the new facts it was only logical for us to go see the judge and inform him, the evidence are vital to the case. So now we're just about to leave the judge's chamber.

"See you in court in fifteen minutes," the judge says before Harm opens the door.

"Aye, ma'am", we both answer.

"Oh and Colonel, good to have you back."

I look up to meet the eyes of the judge and even see a little smile lingering on her lips.

"Thank you, ma'am."

And with this Harm finally opens the door and waits for me to walk out first.

Once we've turned the corner and face down the main corridor, I spot Maverick and Charlie sitting on a bench near courtroom two. Harm has called Mav and asked him to come some minutes before time, once he has told me about Sammer and we were on our way to the judge. So now Mav and his wife are waiting for us.

"Good morning Charlie, Mav," I greet while Harm just nods.

Both Maverick and Charlie stand to meet us.

"Morning to you as well. How are you feeling, Mac?"

"I'm fine, thank you." For now I indeed am. And even if I wasn't, this wouldn't neither be the time nor place for this.

"So why did I need to come here early?" Mav asks, thankfully changing the topic instead of further questioning my wellbeing.

"Mac and I just had a talk with the judge. There are some new developments in the case you should know about."

Mav eyes both of us questioningly before he asks, "Nothing bad I hope."

"No, absolutely not," I answer. And for a moment I can literally see the wheels turning in the Captain's head as he tries to figure out whether this means that it's good for him or for me.

Harm must have read the confusion in his eyes as well, for he continues. "For our case, actually. We're going to win, Mav. There's no doubt about it now."

The information needs time to sink in, so it's Charlie who poses the next question.

"How?"

"I had a little talk with Sammer this morning. And I found out some nice details he was trying to hide. As far as I know not even NCIS knew about that."

"That's because they didn't bother to ask," I throw in. I've now heard this for the third time this morning and I still don't understand why NCIS didn't ask about it. It would have been the first thing I would have asked for.

"But what exactly is it that –" and then I see understanding in Mav's eyes, he knows what Harm is talking about. "The Lieutenant was the one tampering with the oxygen mask, wasn't he?" It isn't so much a question as it is a fact.

Harm grins broadly at him. "Yeah, he was so proud of it, I didn't even have to force him to confess."

"Harm, you've just made my day." This statement clearly radiates from all of Mav's presence. Suddenly he seems so much happier, much more confident and relaxed. And I completely understand; with this new development his job is no longer in any danger.

"But why did he do it?" Charlie asks again.

"Same reason he kidnapped Mac. The Lieutenant despises women in the military. He thought he needed to teach these two a lesson. And he still doesn't see that he is absolutely wrong."

Charlie is the one phrasing her thoughts: "Some men just can't be helped."

"I can only second that." While this is true in these special circumstances, and sure has a serious undertone as long as it concerns Sammer, I still remember different situations where the topic isn't as severe. And so does Charlie, for she shoots me a knowing grin. 'Yeah, at times you just need to let a man do something his way, even though you know it better.' Out of the corner of my eye I can see Harm rolling his eyes. He obviously caught on Charlie's and my silent conversation.

"How about we all head into the courtroom?" Harm asks now, gesturing for the door.

After exchanging a quick glance with both Maverick and Charlie, I say with a smile, "Lead the way, sailor."

Over the next ten minutes I watch as the room fills with the usual spectators. I observe the group of Top Gun students march into the room – I wonder if they don't ever have classes, but come to no conclusion. They all settle into the rows behind Maverick and I look on as Mav stands up to address Lieutenant Reese. I don't understand what is said, but I see the female officer nod at her CO's words.

As one of the last I see Admiral Metcalf walk into the room. He settles into the last row on my side, into the seat closest to the aisle, just as if he wants to leave as soon as possible once the verdict is spoken. His gaze wanders through the room, first settling on Maverick, who by now is speaking to Harm again, before it sways over to me. We exchange a quick nod the moment the bailiff starts with his usual addressing.

The room is dead quiet once the scraping of moved chairs on the floor subsided. We all wait for the judge to speak. I hear a noticeable intake of breath from the man on the bench before he starts to speak.

"This morning new evidence was presented to the court. Facts that are essential to the case and the recommendation given today.

"As I've been informed, from both the defending counsel and the prosecution, there is a legitimate confession from Lieutenant Barney Sammer that he was the one committing the criminal acts discussed in this court during the last week."

I can hear the gasp of surprise that moves through the room. And for a short period of time the noise level of the room rises, when people start to whisper to their neighbors in disbelief. The judge needs to bang his gravel once for the room to fall silent again so he can continue with his findings.

"Given the just explained circumstances I'd say that the accusations against Captain Pete Mitchell are null and void, thus he should be allowed to resume his position in the Top Gun Command immediately. Furthermore the captain should not have any disadvantages from being suspended during the hearing.

"Yet I will recommend an official court martial against Lieutenant Sammer concerning both the damage of military property, as well as the kidnapping of Colonel MacKenzie."

I can hear another gasp running through the room. There were only a few people, who actually knew what happened during the last two days, so this is news to the bigger part of the audience.

"This court is adjourned."

Once the judge vanished into her room behind the courtroom the room gets louder again, people start talking about what they just heard. I stand up as well and walk over to Harm, Mav and Charlie. Mav looks even happier now than he looked some minutes prior when we first told him that he was going to win. I guess having the judge tell you that you won't loose your job is still something different than having your defense counsel tell you the same thing.

"Congrats, Mav," I say, shaking his hand.

"Thanks. Something inside of me still can't believe it's all over and I'm back to normal."

"You better believe it, Maverick." It's Admiral Metcalf, who stepped up next to me without me noticing. "You'll be back in the air training first thing tomorrow morning."

Mav now shakes the hand of his CO and broadly grins at him. "Thanks, Viper. But why not today?"

I can see Charlie shaking her head on the eagerness of her husband, yet I can see the big smile on her face as well.

"Thought you might want to take the rest of the day off and enjoy your victory. I heard that the base's flight plan isn't too full today, they might be able to squeeze in one or two jets more." The admiral claps the younger man's shoulder before he turns and walks down the aisle. I swear I can hear him chuckling.

And when I look back at Maverick I can literally see him beaming. Shifting my eyes onto Harm, I see the same joy reflected in his eyes and his body language. The admiral just made a good day perfect for the both of them.

"So, what can you fly, Harm?" Mav starts to plan their adventure.

Harm answers in his cocky attitude: "Pretty much everything with two wings you've got around here."

Mav only responds with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't ask," I say when Maverick signals me to explain.

"He won't tell?"

"Nope, I won't. It's classified."

"Alright, guess I don't wanna know anyway," Mav gives in. "So let me rephrase that, counsel." Now it's Mav mocking Harm, who doesn't mind. "What do you want to fly?"

Harm thinks for a moment then replies, "How about an old fashioned F-14? It's still my first love."

"I so understand you. It's a pity the old girl won't be there anymore in only two years time. How about we all go to my office and I call the air boss and see what I can arrange."

I look around and see both Harm and Charlie nod whereas I too give my affirmative. Consequently the four of us finally start to leave the courtroom, the last people to do so.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

Today seems to be my lucky day. First Harm gets Sammer to admit his crime and thus clear me of all charges – what I shouldn't have doubted in the first place – and then Viper hasn't said too much when he suggested that the air boss might have some spare time on the runway. For when I call, I am surprised to hear that he could manage to get Harm and I up into the air about twenty minutes later.

"Twenty minutes," I repeat once I put the receiver down. "Guess we better find you an unused suit and helmet, Harm."

Harm just nods and in his eyes I can see the same fire I feel burning in my veins, the fire that is caused by the prospect of soon zooming in the air at close to one Mach.

Before we can leave, I remember to make a second call; we still need two RIOs after all. That done, our small group heads out of my office and down the corridor.

"We're waiting out here," Charlie says as we reach the changing room.

"No need to, we're not going to climb into these flight suits naked, you know." My comment is instantaneously acknowledged with a slap to the chest by my wife.

"Still, you probably gonna talk all that cocky aviator talk in there. We can live without that."

"Ouch," Harm says mockingly.

I open the door but turn to the women and say, "Won't take long."

"The extra things are over there." Inside I point to two lockers across the room. "Just pick one set."

Shortly afterwards a man with light blond hair enters.

"Hi Rio."

"Hey. Glad to get you back into the air, Mav," he answers slightly slapping my shoulder as he passes me to get to his own locker.

"Harm, I want you to meet my RIO, Lieutenant Commander Andrew 'Rio' Ares. Rio that's Harm, my lawyer."

"Hi Rio, good name you have."

"Yeah, it fits. But believe it or not, I didn't get it because I'm a RIO. Rio is where I was born, Rio de Janeiro," Andi explains with a smile just like every other time.

"Even better."

This is when I recall something. "By the way, what's your call sign Harm? We never talked about it."

"I've already gone through a few. My current one is 'Hammer' and that I will keep," Harm tells us and I'm sure I can hear some pride in his voice.

When Andi replies, there is definitely curiosity in his voice. "That's quite a history, Hammer."

"There were a few things I needed to deal with," is all Harm says. "But hey, where's my RIO anyway?" he continues changing the topic.

"She's in the adjacent room. We got here together."

"Is she good?"

"The best, after me that is," Andi jokes.

"Certainly," I respond.

"Do you miss it, Commander, the flying I mean?"

"Yeah," Harm answers but then hesitates before he goes on. "Although I used to miss it a lot more."

Guess he finally found something or rather someone to keep his mind glued to the ground most of the time.

"You ready, guys?" I ask.

"Yeah, let's rock the clouds." It's Andi who sounds like a pilot about to take his very first flight. And to a point we all feel like this every time we go up. Every new flight is like your first – able to create the same adrenaline rush you experienced back then.

"Hate to break it to you, Rio, but the sky's absolutely cloudless," Harm says in as serious a tone as he can manage, one hand clapping Andi's shoulder companionably while the other points to the window and the light blue sky that lies beyond.

"Well, you know what I mean," Andi answers thrown off a bit.

"Sure do," Harm puts him at ease.

"He got you, Rio."

"Let's see who gets whom in the cloudless sky then." He makes a point to emphasize the word 'cloudless', then grabs his helmet and is out of the room, playing the peeved.

Harm and I follow his example and head for the door too. Outside we meet up with Andi, Mac and Charlie as well as Harm's RIO. Seeing the three women talk when we join them, I assume that they already know each other which only leaves Harm to be introduced.

"Harmon 'Hammer' Rabb, my lawyer." I like the surprised look I get when I mention his job. "And approved part-time jet pilot. This is Lieutenant Nancy 'Batgirl' Richmond. She's not directly deployed to NSAWC but made it a habit of helping out whenever a RIO is needed. So she'll be yours today."

"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Same here."

"Now that we all know each other, let's go and get our machines ready," I say spreading my arms like I wanted to herd them forward.

Following my suggestion Andi and Nancy take the lead while the rest of us go behind.

"So now you're going to fly with Batgirl," I hear Mac say.

"I'd rather have Robin in the backseat though," is Harm's answer of which I don't quite get the significance. I never thought that he would be someone to loathe having a woman in the backseat, not after the last week and the hearing we just went through.

"Might be, but Robin doesn't want to fly."

"You don't know what you gonna miss."

"Rest assured I do. Besides, breakfast was too good to actually see how it looks in a paper bag," Mac answers.

So it is Mac who is Robin? It sure sounds like it. For a moment I was worried that I had completely misjudged Harm.

"Robin? How did you get that nickname, Mac?" I ask, seeing absolutely no relation whatsoever between Mac and the young Batman protégé.

"Yeah, how did I end up being Robin, anyway? Who said that you are Batman, Harm?" she now asks her partner eying him from the side.

"Come on Mac, your uniform is green; Robin's costume has pretty much green. Mine is dark, looking like black in the right light. Plus, you are younger than me." After that he hesitates, looking at her skeptically, but Mac isn't convinced yet. So he tries again, "Because I have bigger ears than you?"

I can literally see the laughter bubbling up inside of Mac and seconds later she can't hold it anymore. Before long Charlie, I and even Harm join in.

"This last comment saved you, Batman. Though I like your ears."

By now we've already left the building. This is when Charlie stops our group.

"Sorry Mav, I need to go. I'd love to come, but I have class again in ten."

"Oh yeah, must have slipped from my mind," I says, reaching for my wife's hand.

"It's okay. I understand and I wish you a lot of fun." She leans in placing a kiss on my cheek.

"Mind if I tag along and listen in?" Mac asks her.

"You're free to join me."

"Thanks, Charlie. So have fun up there," she says to all of us but casts a smile at Harm.

"Oh, before we go. I've just had an idea. How about we have a little dinning-out in town tonight, to celebrate some more and in a way Mac and I can enjoy as well?" Charlie inquires.

"Sounds fine," Mac agrees as Harm and I nod our approval.

"Okay, we'll see about details later. We really need to go now."

For a moment the four of us look after Charlie and Mac before we turn to walk to our jets.

Soon after I finally feel the vibration of the engine under my six again as we head for takeoff. And just for the fun of it I fly a roll as soon as we gained enough altitude.

"You missed this, didn't you, Mav?" I hear Andi's voice via the radio.

"You expected anything else?" I answer back, grinning.

"Jockey two, this is Jockey one," I say when I pull up to Harm, who started ahead of me, setting my wingtip right next to his. "What you wanna do, now?"

"How about some dogfight, you and me?"

"Sure you're up to test your skills against a Top Gun instructor, counsel?" I tease.

"You'll see soon enough."

I call the tower to tell them what we're up to. "Jockeys one and two headed for test area."

"Roger. You're all clear to go."

"Hammer, hold my wing and follow." With that I break tight to the right, heading for the test area over an uninhabited part of the Nevada desert.

"Roger, Mav."

Once we are well into the designated area I again radio Harm. "You're free to go now, Jockey two."

At the next moment both our jets take off in different directions. While Harm dives low and turns to the left, I keep my height turning right. For a while I simply enjoy being up here. Then however, my fighter training kicks back in and I ask Andi for directions.

"You have any contact, Rio?"

"One contact, course 037, angels 50."

Let the game begin. Changing my course in a low G-force turn I start to head after Harm. It isn't long before I can see him. I settle behind his jet, not too close but close enough to be within striking distance in a few seconds. I wonder why Harm isn't reacting yet, his RIO surely must have seen us, when he suddenly does a bat-turn and is facing me in a matter of seconds. He has some nerves and some pretty good skills; I have to give him that. So now we're on a direct course towards each other. Immediately my thumb is placed on the missile control button on my stick. I switch it to the appropriate weapon while the distance between us decreases quickly. Fixing my eyes onto the opposing jet I aim for it. And as soon as the missile locks onto its aim I press the button for the simulated release.

"Fox two," I comment my firing of one of the Sidewinders we carry.

Yet the moment I do, I hear the sound that tells me that Hammer has as well released his missile too and it's locked on us. Reacting instantly I pull the stick to the left, breaking away.

"Fire some flares." We need to distract that weapon before it comes too close.

Gladly the beeping, indicating that Harm's missile is still locked on us, dies some seconds later when it hits our flares.

But due to the sudden breakaway both Hammer and I were forced to perform, I've lost sight of him again.

"Where is he?" I ask, all the while checking the air around me.

For a moment I hear no response. And then: "Damn, he's directly at our six."

Yeah, 'damn' is probably the right word for this moment I once again hear the irritating beeping. This guy definitely still has enough air time, no matter his current profession. It isn't very often that I'm locked upon twice in a row, without even having seen it coming.

"Break right," Rio says behind me. And out of the corner of my eye I see that he's turned around as much as he could to determine how to best escape the incoming weapon.

I do so and we're yet again lucky to escape the blow.

"This calls for payback," I say to Rio, my pride already suffering a little. There's no way I'm gonna get shot down by a lawyer, no matter how good a friend he might be.

So I turn the jet back around, heading after Harm. Before long he's in plain sight again. This time I'm not gonna hold back. Increasing speed I close up with him, my thumb already on the fire button. Harm keeps swaying right and left, obviously avoiding to get locked upon. By now however, we are too close for me to use the missiles so I switch to onboard fire instead. Harm still keeps flying his zigzag course.

"This is not going to work, buddy," I say to myself as I start firing in advance of his position, trying to predict where the jet should be next.

Yet Harm is quick to react, and instead of directly flying into my line of fire, he pulls up his nose and starts a steep climb. In a matter of seconds we're past him even though I too pulled up my nose the moment I realized what he was up to.

"Do you see him?" I ask when I level the jet into a horizontal position again.

"He took a right turn, course 048."

Instantly I force the stick to the right, starting a tight turn close to the 9G mark. Hammer's not going to get away. And indeed, the other F14's back in sight once we hit the exact course.

"Gomer directly ahead," I hear Andi over the radio.

"Closing in to missile range," I reply.

Yet even before I'm close enough, Harm once again starts a rise.

"Not again, I'm not fooled twice by the same trick."

I get my jet in position behind his, but soon realize that it isn't the same trick by any means. Because, with our change of course, we're now headed directly into the sun and I am no longer able to make out his jet against the bright light. So instead of further following him, I settle into a dive and get to a lower altitude waiting for my chance.

And the chance comes after some more chasing and being chased, during which we both have to fly to the limit of our abilities. This time I choose the radar-guided Sparrow instead of the heat-seeking Winder we used before. And indeed, though Hammer tries his best to steer clear of the weapon, both Rio and I can soon hear the sound of an affirmative hit.

"Mort," I radio Harm to indicate that I just killed him, although only simulated.

"Gee thanks. Mind to give a lawyer a second chance?"

"Not at all, as long as you accept that I gonna be the winner." I'm however, not so sure I always will be. This man isn't only a good lawyer he's also one hell of a pilot.

I can hear Harm's laughter before his next call. "Then here we go again."

Thus the radio is once again quiet until the next round is finished. I haven't had that much fun in a while. Being the instructor is nothing compared to what we're doing now. This is a fight between equals.

When we're approaching the base at last, I'm reminded of something I haven't done in years. But right now I'm in the prefect mood for it – I feel as young and reckless as back in the days.

So I ask: "This is Jockey one, requesting permission for flyby."

"That's a negative. The pattern is full," is the answer from the air boss.

I grin, my mind already made up, that this is not going to stop me. When I turn my head, I see that Harm's jet is directly next to mine. My grin gets even wider; the crew in the tower is in for a wild ride.

The next moment we speed up our engines and pass by the tower in perfect formation.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

Our dining-out takes place in an Italian restaurant in the northern part of town, a place Mav and I have wanted to test for a while. And this is just the right occasion for it. The restaurant proves to be a nice place with a private atmosphere and absolutely delicious food. All of our plates that where once filled with four different meals are now empty except for a few crumbs and decoration while our stomachs are pretty well filled with the enormous portions each of us got.

We are seated in a corner of the smaller of the two rooms the restaurant consists of. An electric candelabra burns on the wall to my right, casting a warm orange light over our table. The two long candles, the waiter placed on our table when we arrived only add to the romantic ambiance. All four of us are completely relaxed and at ease.

I watch as Harm, who sits directly across from me, leans closer to Mac. He places his arm on the back of her chair, his hand brushing against her arm. He whispers something into her ear and she starts to smile before she whispers something in return. I have to admit that I'm fascinated by their display of affection and can't take my eyes off of them.

It's my husband who breaks the spell.

"I'd like to propose a toast. To Mac and Harm, I'm glad I got two such good friends out of this ordeal."

We all reach for our glasses, all filled with water – I still have to grin about the face of the waiter when we didn't order any wine with the meal. Harm's right arm never leaves Mac's chair and once he has his glass, he settles back close to her.

"To Mac and Harm," I echo while Harm and Mac say, "to friends" instead.

It's me who first gives in to the temptation of the music softly playing, but I can tell from the way Mac has her eyes fixed on some imaginary point behind Mav and the way her lips softly move as if she's speaking, that she as well isn't immune to the muted tunes.

"How about a dance?"

"Sure, just go ahead," Harm answers.

"Actually it's you I wanted to dance with Commander. That is if you don't mind," I ask looking at Mac.

"Nope, I'm sure Mav will accompany me instead."

"Certainly." And thus we decided, now waiting for both men to get up and lead us to the dance floor.

The four of us are the only ones currently on the dance floor on the other side of the room. And I can feel the eyes of numerous guests resting on us. Yet I don't feel uncomfortable, which is more because Harm's arms around me make me feel relaxed than the fact that I actually like a big audience, which I don't, at least not here. My right hand gently rests in Harm's left and both are pulled close to our bodies. For the first time in years I actually need to reach up to lay my hand onto the shoulder of the man in front of me. Things like this are much easier with Maverick, who's my height. Yet still, it feels good when Harm starts to move us around the floor.

I cast a quick glance at Mac and my husband when they pass us by. A slight smile creeps over my face, for Mac with her heels has some inches on Mav. But they nevertheless look as comfortable as I feel.

"Those two look good together," I say to Harm.

He leans back slightly to look at me, but never stops moving.

"You think?" he asks and for a moment I'm sure I can see some worries creeping up in his mind.

"Are you jealous?"

"Are you?" is his reply.

"There's absolutely no reason for it. And you know that, Harm," I say in a gentle voice.

He nods his head but says nothing. Sometimes it's hard to truly convince your head to believe something in what your heart already trusts.

"Didn't you have any worries when they first met?"

I think back to the evening Mav came home late and first told me about the woman he met in the O-Club. The woman he immediately felt some sort of connection to. And I shake my head.

"I know Mav and, as cliché as it sounds, I do trust him. He told me that Mac is somebody he could relate to, though he didn't know why. But he somehow felt that she understood him, even though she'd only known him for nothing more than an hour back then."

"That is what Mac said about Maverick as well."

"But you didn't believe her?"

He drops his eyes, looking down at the floor through the gap between our bodies, and shakes his head. "Not at first."

"Why?" I'm not sure I'm really in any position to ask, but Mav considers these two as friends and so do I. Therefore I'm interested in how they feel about certain things, especially how they feel about each other.

Harm doesn't answer for a while and we continue to sway to the music in silence.

"I'm not sure myself," he finally offers. "Maybe I was just afraid to lose her again. You know, a short time ago, her former fiancé was back in town for a conference. It confused her to a point, shook her up, but it also changed things between us. After he was gone something about our relationship was different. And I hoped that we were on the right track to finally take the next step. Yet when she told me about Mav, I thought that she might have found someone else she could confide in, somebody who..." he trails off, searching for the words to say next. "Somebody who wasn't me, somebody with whom she hadn't that difficult a past." He shakes his head, as if trying to get rid of the thoughts. Then he glances towards Mav and Mac but quickly returns his gaze onto me.

"You know, Harm, you've just given yourself the reason why you shouldn't have worried from the start. Mav is not you. The two of you might have some things in common, might have gone through the same experiences, but you still are completely different people. And I know that Mac knows that. You two do have a past, a past in which you've overcome many obstacles. As little as I know about Mac I don't doubt that this is what's marked her deeply, the good and the bad. And that the fact that you two are still together means a great deal to her and she never wants to lose that. Yet she might have found it helpful to confine into Mav up to some point, to get an outsider's perspective from someone who would understand but not judge."

"I never quite thought about it like that. I could have spared myself some pain."

I just nod my head and smile. At least he understands now.

The next moment I'm surprised by his lips on my cheek when he softly kisses me. It causes me to stop my movement and thus forces Harm to stop as well.

"Thanks Charlie," he says when he pulls back again.

"You're very welcome."

"You think I could risk asking Mav for an exchange?"

"I'm sure he won't mind."

"Thanks for the dance and the talk, Charlie," Harm says when he releases me from his hold.

I watch as he walks over to where Maverick and Mac still dance. He taps on my husband's shoulder, after which Mav slightly bows to Mac and then places her hand into Harm's with a smile. Once Mav's eyes move away from them, they come to meet mine. And even though there is still some distance between us, I can see that his eyes are lit by the same smile that plays on his lips. I keep on looking as Mac snuggles closer to Harm. He brings his lips down to meet her temple.

Then Mav arrives by my side and gathers me in his arms. I snuggle closer too, closing my eyes and getting lost in the music and his touch.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

Earlier than usual again, Mac and I drive to the base where we hand in the issued car at the supply center, only to have a Chief Petty Officer drive us to Reno International Airport – there are absolutely no eastbound flights from the base today; the only way we could have gone from here would be with me flying whatever plane with Mac in the backseat, but she absolutely rejected that – and then bring back the car.

But before we go we still have to say goodbye to our new friends. So here we are waiting for the Mitchells to show up. I lean against the side of the car, just next to the door. Mac stands in front of me. And even though we're both in civilian attire, we don't stand close enough to touch, it just wouldn't feel right.

When Mav and Charlie finally emerge from the NSAWC building, he is already clad in his flight suit.

"Sorry we're late, but I needed to catch up on a few things first," Mav greets.

"It's okay we still have plenty of time," I answer only to hear Mac say, "Four hours thirty one minutes."

"Exactly what I would have said if you hadn't said it first," I say rolling my eyes at her. Sometimes this ability of hers drives me crazy.

"So, how are you feeling, Mav, being back up in the air?" Mac wants to know.

Charlie replies instead of Maverick. "He's as excited as a little child at Christmas. He has been high on adrenalin the whole morning."

"And here I am thinking that yesterday has been enough," Mac answers with a grin.

Both Mav and I eye her as if she's gone crazy and then give her a chorused "Never", which just earns us a shaking head from Mac as well as Charlie.

For a while we just revel in these last moments of laughter between friends, neither wanting to be the one to break the spell. It's Maverick who finally does so.

"I know I already said that, but it's been great getting to know you two."

"Same here," I say, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it. I am now as happy to count this man as a friend as I was suspicious when we first came here and I learned about his close connection to Mac. And to tell the truth, he's the one who's responsible for the way Mac's and my relationship currently is. If it wasn't for him I probably would still be waiting for some unmistakable sign telling me that I should go for what I want. So I truly have to thank him.

"I wanna say thank you, that you made us feel welcome, especially me when I was the enemy," Mac addresses both but Charlie in particular.

"Come on Mac, that's a job. Personally you never were the enemy."

"Thanks. And thanks for the BBQ and last night. We had a great time." Then Mac does something I would have never expected, but she takes a step forward and hugs her new friend.

"You're very welcome," Charlie replies smiling while she returns Mac's embrace.

"Time to say goodbye, I guess." It's Maverick again.

Right, so I too step up closer to Charlie and lean in to hug her goodbye. Meanwhile Mac turns to face Mav and softly asks, "Permission to hug the Captain?"

I'm reminded of the time when she used almost the same words in front of the JAG building. Back then I was losing her to civilian life, but today I'm the one she's gonna stay with.

"Permission granted," is Mav's reply before the two hug as well.

I share another manly handshake with Maverick and tell him a last whispered "thank you" for everything he did. I guess Charlie's right after all, sometimes you just need an outsider's input to see what's right in front of you.

I'm about to turn around and open the door for Mac to get into the car when Mav's next comment catches me off guard.

"Make sure you invite us to your wedding." When I face him again he grins broadly at me.

It however doesn't take long for me to get my composure back, for it isn't that this thought is anything new to me, I've had this picture in my mind for quite a while now. So I simply answer, "Will do" with a complete and unmistakable sincerity in my voice.

I feel Mac's eyes bore into me the moment she hears my response. Slowly I turn my head facing her with a pleading look. Her raised brow clearly tells me, "Excuse me? Did I miss something?" And when I still don't say a thing – as I'm unable to form any coherent words that would come close to what I really want to say – but try to transport all my feelings through the one look we share, her brow lowers again while in turn her mouth falls slightly agape when she realizes just what I want to let her know. All the while her eyes stay fixed on me – disbelievingly.

As she stars at me this way, I keep sending silent prayers to heaven.

'Sarah please do not say no, Sarah please. I know this is not the way you pictured me to ask and still it is so very true that my heart aches for your answer. I need you in my life. I want you to always be there.'

Then, after endless minutes she finally manages a small "Oh" before she gives me her most beautiful smile. She reaches for my hand and gently squeezes it. I know this is it.

"I make sure you're among the first to get the invitations," she now answers Mav as well.

And while both Mac and I are absolutely sure that this just was the moment, the moment we said yes to each other, Maverick and Charlie look like they have some difficulties to capture what just transpired between us.

"Did what I think happened just happen?" Charlie asks shooting quizzical looks towards the both of us.

"If you think that we just got engaged, yes that happened." When I hear Mac's words, my heart suddenly beats three times faster. I've known it before, but telling our friends somehow makes it official.

"Wow!" is all Charlie manages to say before she involves Mac in another hug.

Mav once again shakes my hand, "Congrats, Harm. Way to go."

"Yeah," I reply sheepishly. Definitely a way to go!

After that, we exchange another set of goodbyes before Mac and I finally get into the car and drive off with a last "See you at the wedding".

Five hours later we're on our way back to Washington and back to the General, whom we need to explain a few things to. Mac leans against my shoulder, my arm around her. It is a good thing we took a civilian flight back home. This way I can just hold my fiancée's hand all through the flight and can place little kisses on her face every time I want.

"Don't think you will get out of that this easy, sailor," Mac whispers when my lips once again come to touch the smooth skin of her cheek.

"Out of what?" I ask innocently.

"You know what," she says, gently slapping her hand on my chest. "Did you and Mav plan this?"

"No, I swear. That was absolutely spontaneous."

She lies her head back down on my shoulder. I can tell she is slightly disappointed about the way the proposal happened, though I am perfectly sure she is not about the result.

"I will make it up to you Sarah, I promise," I whisper into her hair. I want to ask the right way. I will do it for her as much as I'll do it for me to hear her formal yes. My head is already working out a plan on how to do it.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep."

I have to smile when I recall several other conversations when she used the very same words. My eyes search for hers when she lifts her head again. Lowering my head to come level with hers I lean in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Inches before they come to meet I whisper my usual response.

"I haven't yet." I feel her smile against my lips when they make contact with mine.

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-


	12. Epilogue

**This is the end, folks.** It's time for some notes of thanks.  
First off to my betas "eridani" and "alix33" for your great work. Just in case I haven't said it before: "You rock and your work has always been appreciated."

And secondly to all the readers out there, those who left a review and those who silently enjoyed, I hope you had as much fun reading this story as I had writing it.

And last but surely not least to Zosia. You keep distracting me with your challenges :D, but you always had an open ear and good ideas when I got stuck. Hope I can provide you with some in return :P. Thanks for everything so far.

* * *

Just a quick reminder, this story started right after "4 Percent Solution" so Mattie's still perfectly fine. 

The song used between the paragraphs is from Marc Terenzi. It's called "Love to be loved by you" and was his wedding gift for his fiancée Sarah Connor (so all credits go to him). I find this song absolutely fitting for a wedding; that's why it is in here.

* * *

**-Epilogue-**

_I can't believe I'm standing here  
Been waiting for so many years and  
Today I found the Queen to reign my heart  
You changed my life so patiently  
And turned it into something good and real  
I feel just like I felt in all my dreams  
There are questions hard to answer  
Can't you see…  
_

I'm not nervous, nor worried or afraid. For in my heart, there is no place for any worries about the future or about our careers. What matters, is the here and now, the complete and uttermost happiness that's spreading its wings over me. I can feel it with every fiber of my heart that what we're going to do is right. I've never been surer about a thing in my life – not even when I decided to join the Marine Corps, the one place that felt like home and offered me some kind of family. And there no longer is this fear I harbored for so long that I can't even remember when I first felt it. The fear that with openly admitting my love for Harm I might lose his friendship on the way. I'll be forever thankful that quite the opposite came true – while our love blossomed and we reveled in new experiences, our friendship drew strength from these newly found bonds.

It all comes down to me sitting here in the middle of the big room the church uses as a bride's room, waiting for the moment the door opens and I can walk down the aisle to where Harm will be waiting for me.

I'm perfectly calm, but the people around me seem to be extraordinarily nervous.

Trish has hovered around me for almost forty minutes now, picking an imaginary bit of fluff from my dress here, smoothing some wrinkle there. And for the probably twenty-fifth time she tells me, "You look absolutely gorgeous, Sarah", when she tucks a tiny white flower back to its place in my hair that it never left in the first place. Although I have to confess that I enjoy her tenderness, her motherly care.

At my other side Harriet isn't much calmer either. She on the other hand, keeps her hands to herself but never stops walking around the room, checking my appearance from every possible position.

"Are you sure you have everything?" she asks when she stops for a moment, tilting her head slightly to the right looking at me.

"Yeah, I have Trish's old pearls," I touch the necklace that highlights my décolleté. "I have the new blue suspender." I can hear giggles erupting from my left side but choose to ignore them for the time being. "And I have your earrings." I have to say that I've fallen in love with Harriet's plain silver rose shaped earrings the first time I saw her wear them. I'm very glad she allowed me to put them on today. "Everything's in order, you should really calm down a bit, Harriet," I finish.

"Somebody should be nervous; this is a wedding after all. And if it's not the bride, who better than the matron-of-honor?" she reasons and gives me this brilliant smile that magically appeared on her face the day Harm and I told her and Bud about our engagement – the day we came back from Nevada five months ago. And it has never disappeared since.

I've asked her about it this morning when she picked me up at my apartment.

All she answered was, "I feel like I'm getting married all over again. I thought I would never see the day."

I roll my eyes at the thought – guess Harm and I weren't the only ones driven crazy by the dance we shared. In hindsight things seem so much easier than they were back then. And I hardly understand anymore why it took us almost nine years to figure it out.

Another giggle pulls me out of my reverie, so I turn my head towards the couch that's placed directly beneath the big window. Bright sunlight floods through the glass, drawing yellow squares onto the dark wooden floor and bathing the two figures on the couch in the warm August light. I focus back onto the laughter, squinting against the light to make out the two girls. It feels good hearing Chloe and Mattie laugh together. Before they met, both Harm and I were quite nervous about how well they would get along. After all, they are part of our families. But the two girls, that are so close in age and in character, hit it off right from the start. Soon enough they ganged up against the two of us adults, driving us crazy. Yet I'm still proud to call both of them my bridesmaids.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," Chloe says while Mattie shakes her head before both whisper something and start giggling again.

I shake my head, teenagers.

I close my eyes and lean back in the armchair. Ten more minutes before the music starts, ten more minutes before I can step out of this room. Why does it have to take that long? I've been ready ten minutes ago already and could have been almost married by now. A sigh escapes my lips.

"Are you okay, Sarah?"

I open my eyes and look at the owner of the voice. He leans against the wall right next to the door he's going to lead me through in a couple more minutes, just as if he's tired of waiting too.

"Everything's fine, perfect even. I'm just tired of waiting," I answer honestly.

"Still impatient, aren't we? I still remember when you were young and we first went dinosaur track hunting. I never was fast enough for you. Before I could even reach a track and inspect it, you already had made up a story about what happened."

"I've been quite patient with the sailor out there," I reply, nodding my head towards the door.

"That's nothing to do with patience, dearest Sarah, that's been plain stupidity," Uncle Matt replies back goodheartedly and earns a round of laughter from everybody present, including me.

As we share these laughs, I think about how grateful I am that he can be here with me, that he will share this special moment with us. I accepted that he wouldn't walk me down the aisle in the same way I did when I planned my wedding with Mic. But now more than back then I was sad about Matt missing this day in my life. He was the only real family I had left and he couldn't be there. But leave it to AJ Chegwidden and Gordon Cresswell to come up with the one thing I want the most, apart from Harm waiting for my at the altar.

It was about an hour ago when somebody knocked on the door to this very room. I knew that by then the guests had started to arrive and wondered who that might be. It was Trish who went to open the door, seeing that I was trapped in a chair in front of the mirror with Harriet fixing the last strands of hair.

"General, Admiral," she greeted.

I turned my head on impulse but got stopped by Harriet's hands on both sides of my face, gently turning my head back.

"Is there anything we can do for you gentlemen?" I heard Trish ask.

"We would like to talk to the bride for a moment," the general answered.

"I don't know –" my soon-to-be mother-in-law started but was interrupted by Harriet's "all finished" after which I immediately got up and crossed the room to meet the two men.

"Sorry to barge in, but we have something for you that can't wait."

I shot questioning glances in both their directions before the general continued.

"I was thinking about getting you something special. And when I called AJ about it, it seemed that we thought along the same lines."

"But –" I began to intervene, about to say that Harm and I would unpack our presents at the reception, when suddenly their present left me speechless.

With my mouth agape and most probably looking absolutely brainless I stared at the man that stepped up from behind them. He took two more steps around them and came to a stop right next to me. Finally, when I felt his smile warming my soul to the very core, my senses set back in and I was able to wrap my arms tightly around my uncle Matt.

Still unable to speak properly I simply squeezed out a single word, "How?"

"You have two friends in those men that care a lot about you, Sarah. They must have pulled quite a few strings to get me here today.

I hugged him once more before I let go and turned to face the admiral and the general. Both of them stood side by side, the tall bald man in his dress whites and the smaller marine in his dress blues, smiling at me. Without thinking I took the remaining step to close the distance between us. First I wrapped my arms around AJ to thank him. I still can't believe he did this for me, especially since I asked him to walk me down the aisle once again. I placed a quick kiss on his cheek, something he didn't seem to mind. Next I turned to Cresswell and met his smiling eyes. I as well saw his raised eyebrows and the slightly raised hand signaling me to think twice about hugging him – after all he had the picture of a mean marine to maintain. But right there and then, I couldn't care less, for I was a happy bride that just got the best wedding present ever, and I wanted to thank him. So I wrapped my arms around him as well. I however reframed from kissing him; that would have been too much.

"Thank you so much," I said once I got myself under control again and was standing beside my smiling uncle.

"You're welcome. We thought that at least someone from your family should be here today."

"I won't say that it made no difference whether Uncle Matt is here today or not, because it made a great difference, but you are wrong about the family. You and the people in there," I pointed towards the middle ship of the church, "you are my family. And I'm glad that I can share this day with you".

Both men nodded their heads and I could feel Matt's hand reaching for mine.

"We've now occupied enough of your time. I'm sure you still need to get a million things done," the admiral said, once he looked me up and down and realized that I was still clad in shirt and jeans.

"Thank you," I repeated.

"Carry on, Colonel." Obviously Cresswell couldn't suppress that last comment before he turned to follow AJ back to the other guests.

"Aye, sirs," I replied with a broad smile. "Come on in, Uncle Matt."

I waited till he passed me so I could close the door behind us.

"Ladies, this is Matt O'Hara, my Uncle Matt."

He was greeted warmly in return.

"There's something I wanted to give to you, Sarah," he said once he had shaken the hands of everybody.

"Oh, you don't need to get me anything. Your being here is already more than I could have hoped for."

"No, that was your gift from Admiral Chegwidden and General Cresswell," he said taking my right hand into his left. "But this, this is from me."

He pulled a small rose bush from behind his back.

"But –" I trailed off, reaching for the pot with red roses.

"This is for you to start your own rose garden, so that you'll always know where to find your sailor."

"Oh, Uncle Matt." The first tears found their way out of my eyes when I wrapped my arms around my uncle once more. "You still remember this?" I whispered.

"Sure do, sweetheart. But no more tears, you don't want to have red eyes before you even go out there, do you?"

"No," I smiled, brushing away my tears.

Now the rose bush stands on the end table beside Chloe and Mattie, soaking up the incoming sunlight, as the sign that binds the past to the future, the future that is about to begin.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

_Baby, tell me how can I tell you  
That I love you more than life!  
Show me how can I show you  
That I'm blinded by your light!  
When you touch me I can touch you  
To find out the dream is true!  
I love to be loved by you!  
_

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

I stand a little off to the side, away from the benches that will soon be filled with people. At the moment I'm left alone with time enough to contemplate my thoughts and to look around to take in the atmosphere of the day. I never want to forget a single thing about today.

I look up towards the double oak doors of the church, through which our guests stroll in. Everybody seems to be in a good mood. Laughter and easy voices flow through the room from the various small groups of people that have formed here and there. I let my gaze sway over the benches, let it rest on people that we consider friends, people that are here to share our happiness.

My eyes come to rest on the young man that's constantly alternating between the first row and the altar. I watch as little AJ walks back to his seat. He climbs up onto the wooden bench, his feet not yet reaching down to the ground when he sits. He adjusts the small pillow on his knees. I don't hear him over the distance, but I clearly see him mutter something just before he slips down from the bench and starts towards the altar again. I guess he is repeating the words the chaplain would say and which are his starting signal. After a few moments he reaches his designated place and stops. Carefully he raises his hands and with them the pillow, presenting it to the imaginary people standing there, the people that in a couple of minutes will be me and Sarah. I have to smile about the eagerness with which the young boy practices his job. He will be a perfect ring bearer. AJ then turns to head back for the bench once again. This is when he spots me watching him. His determined face lights up in a bright smile and he waves his little hand at me. I smile and wave back at him. With a happy smile on his face he returns to the bench, to start the process anew. Not being able to turn my eyes from the adorable sight, I keep watching him for a little while longer.

Finally I tear my eyes away. Letting them wander a bit further. They settle on my grandmother Sarah. I'm so very glad that she is here today, there would be something missing, if she weren't. So I drove to Pennsylvania myself to bring her down here. This woman was there for me through my darkest hours, she should be there for the brightest too. And when I first introduced her to my bride, there was an immediate connection between the two Sarahs. My grandmother had said that she felt like she had known Sarah MacKenzie for years already, and that she knew that she was the woman for me simply from the way I always talked about her. Sarah and I just smiled about that – maybe we should have listened to ourselves more closely to spare us some time and pain.

Concentrating back on the here and now, I observe my grandmother talking to Frank who sits next to her. I hear his laughter drifting towards me and his smiling face makes me happy. I'm as equally pleased that he is here as I am about my grandmother's presence. After all, this is the one man I might never have given a real chance to be my father but who always cared about me like a father does. I only realized this when I took in Mattie – that it isn't about replacing one dad with the other, but merely having someone else care for you when the other can't.

The place next to Frank is empty, surely held free for my mother, who currently is with Sarah and the bridal company.

Sarah. I can't help the contented smile that is forming on my lips again when I think about the fact that her given name now crosses my lips more often. For Sarah is all of the woman I love. Mac's just a part of her. Mac's the strong and independent marine that can handle a hostage crisis or a rifle shootout. Mac's the skilled lawyer that could convince a jury with a passionate statement or the judge that is objective and not to be fooled around with. All of this is Mac, but it still isn't all of her. Sarah, that's the woman outside the uniform. She's the tender and caring lover I got to know these last five months. She is the ever loyal friend I've had all these years. The friend that always stood by my side, firm and strong. Sarah's the woman that will wrap her arms around me when I need a shoulder to cry on. But she is also vulnerable and easy to hurt. A person that needs some arms to support her every now and then. Sarah is the woman that completes me in ways I never thought were incomplete before. Yet together we have found a strength I haven't experienced up until now.

I continue scanning the small crowd. I see Chloe's grandparents, who welcomed me warmly into their family the day Sarah first took me there to personally tell them the happy news. There is Teresa Coulter and I remember our first meeting in Arizona and how she told me that she wished she wasn't that attracted to me. Theresa has become a very good friend over the years. Next to her are Skates and a man Elisabeth introduced as her husband when they first arrived. My RIO, I can't help but still think of her that way, had hugged me and whispered, "Glad you finally made it to your best friend's wedding". I gave her a small smile in return. I'm still feeling guilty over the fact that we ended up in the icy waters that night so long ago. The group behind them consists of people from the office. Among them are Gunny, who managed to get here from wherever he is currently stationed, Tiner, who's nearly finished with OCS and will soon be a lawyer himself, Jen, Mattoni with his wife and Sturgis and Varese, who offered to sing a few songs at the reception. Things between Sturgis and I are still somewhat tense, but right now that doesn't matter. He's one of my oldest friends and we should probably start getting over what has been and what better day for a new beginning than today? I even spot a few of the judges in the group.

Letting my eyes wander back over the aisle they fall onto Bud, Mike, Cammie Cresswell and her mother. I wonder whether the two midshipmen have started dating yet. I know from the three thin bars Mike wears so proudly that he is allowed to now – at least according to Academy regulations, but who knows about the general. For a brief moment I'm reminded of my last year at the Academy; it was a great time. The two midshipmen each hold one of the Roberts twins. As far as I understood they volunteered to take care of the two lively six-month-old babies throughout the ceremony. I guess Dora and Bud are providing them with some last minute tips.

Then there is the man who set it all in motion. Maverick and Charlie stand together with Tom Boone, AJ Chegwidden and General Cresswell. From the looks of it Admiral Boone is telling some story while the others listen closely. The next moment I see him nod in my direction before the rest of the group all turn their heads to look at me. I shoot them a happy smile. However, once they turn back their heads, I see both Chegwidden and Cresswell nod probably to agree with what he just said. I shake my head. Guess I don't want to know what the Admiral told them about me. So I turn my attention somewhere else.

It's my brother who captures it. Sergei and his wife arrived in the States four days ago and the four of us had a great time. Imagine that he never told Galinka how we met. So we had a lot to catch up on. He now sits close to her, holding her hand and talking to her. A few Russian words drift my way. Words I don't understand, but they must mean something nice for Galinka softly cups his chin and leans in to place a soft kiss on my brother's lips. I can only hope that Sarah and I will still have the same sparks flying between us after some years of marriage. A soft sigh escapes my lips.

"You nervous, buddy?" I didn't even realize that Keeter had walked up to me.

I turn my head and am greeted by his grinning face.

"Fine."

"Then why do you look so pale?" he questions, slapping my shoulder and then letting his hand rest there.

"I'm not looking pale. I'm fine, really." How can't I be? This is the best day of my life.

"Believe it Harm, you're almost as white as your uniform. Hey Bud, what do you say, doesn't the groom look pale?"

Bud, who left his kids to join us, stops in his tracks and looks me up and down.

"A little, maybe. But don't worry, sir, it's quite normal that you're feeling nervous. I was a total wreck the day I married Harriet. And look how that worked out."

"I'm not a nervous wreck," I answer, looking first at Jack and then at Bud. But neither takes me seriously, so I finally give in. "Okay, I might be a little nervous." 'A little' is quite an understatement. My hands are all sweaty and my heart bounces wildly in my chest. After all I've been waiting for this day for what feels like forever.

"Just wait, once you'll see your pretty Colonel walk down this aisle, you'll calm down in a matter of seconds," Keeter says.

I look at my old friend, my brow raised when I ask, "Who made you the expert on weddings?"

"I never said that I'm an expert. I just saw this coming for years."

I roll my eyes at him, not another one. Why has everybody seen it, but nobody bothered to tell us?

"You remember that time when you had to fly that bird out of the desert? That hug you and Mac shared then, this was something beyond colleagues, beyond friendship. And I was the one that spent days with her in the desert. After that I had a pretty good idea of what you meant to her."

"And you never bothered to tell me?" I ask disbelievingly.

"Would you have listened to me, and acted on it? You probably would have discarded it as something I imagined. I can't count the times you told me that you and Mac were just friends."

I nod my head, most likely he was right.

"Don't let it bother you, sir. You're here now and that's what counts." I can't believe how much Bud has changed over the years. I still remember the clumsy Lieutenant JG he was when he first transferred to JAG. But the man that now stands in front of me is wise beyond his years and the Lieutenant Commander bars he wears. I am lucky to count him as a friend and my best man.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

_You're looking kind of scared right now  
You're waiting for the wedding vows  
But I don't know if my tongue's able to talk  
Your beauty is just blinding me  
Like sunbeams on a summer stream  
And I gotta close my eyes to protect me  
Can you take my hand and lead me  
From here please yeah…  
_

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

Within three minutes, if everything goes according to plan, till Mattie and Chloe will be the first to leave the room. And after that Harriet, which leaves Uncle Matt and me alone in the room for a brief moment.

All of a sudden I start feeling nervous. I keep rethinking everybody's positions, every minute detail. How Harriet will walk down the aisle just before me. How Bud's face will light up once he sees his wife in this simple cut, yet amazing dress, whose color is a dark slate blue. Then she will come to stand next to my bridesmaids, turning back to where she came from.

I imagine Mattie and Chloe almost floating to where the groom and groomsmen wait at the end of the aisle. They decided to walk together and spent hours on end training for the right pace. I still find it incredible that the little girl who wanted to be my flower girl some years back, now so easily fits into the role of bridesmaid. And that the other, whom I've known for not even two years, is so close to me now, that I haven't thought twice about asking her to be the second bridesmaid.

In the end I picture Jimmy walking towards the altar first, hopefully throwing some of the flowers on the way and not like yesterday at the rehearsal when he sprinted down the aisle, despite Harriet's efforts to make him walk slowly, and quite literally bathed Harm's feet in an ocean of rose petals. One just has to love this little boy, especially since he's absolutely adorable in his miniature tuxedo.

A smile creeps to my lips and I draw confidence from the knowledge that all my friends and family are here today. And no matter what, everything will be just perfect for this wedding.

I focus back on the present in time to see the two teenagers reaching for the small bouquets of flowers they will carry. I watch as they flatten the last wrinkles in the dresses. Both Chloe and Mattie look up to meet my eyes, and both give me happy smiles, a smile I can easily return. The next moment they open the door, walk out and only three of us are left. I hear the soft tunes of the song Harm and I chose drift into our room.

I can't remain sitting in my chair, so I get up and walk over to the full-length mirror. I stare at my reflection as I walk up in an ivory wedding gown. I still remember how it was Mattie who found the dress when I had already tried on what felt like a hundred others. And it was a perfect fit, only a few changes needed to be made.

It's a marvelous dress. There is a shorter dress, simply cut, straight lines, fitting my body perfectly. It's strapless and ends just above my knees. There are no ornaments except a small triangle of delicate flowers embroidered just above my breasts, highlighting them a little more. Yet the flowers are woven into the light material in a way that they are barely seen except when they shimmer silkily in the right light. On top of that I wear a matching coat. It falls straight down to the floor, just as plainly cut as the dress, and forms a trail in the back. Nothing much, just the hint of a train. It is long sleeved with a standup collar that almost reaches my ears. It closes with four buttons underneath my chest, revealing the décolleté of the dress below. Starting from my waist downward the coat sways open when I walk, showing my legs. The dress's embroidered flowers repeat themselves at my elbows and run down in a thin line only to open up into yet another triangle at the hem of each of the sleeves, as well as on the edging of the trail.

I stared at my reflection for a few seconds for I could still hear the song playing – the music will stop for a brief moment just before Harriet starts to walk down the aisle. Closing my eyes I see Harm standing at the altar, now waiting for Chloe and Mattie to complete their walk. And while I see him standing there, with Bud beside him and the Chaplain to his right, the image wavers and the scenery changes. However, Harm stays the same, waiting for me at the end of the way.

_I still feel the chilly evening air as I walk towards him. I'm wrapped up in the sweatshirt I brought down from the house. My eyes sway from Harm to the ocean behind him. Just a few steps from where he's waiting for me, the Atlantic meets the beaches of Maine in a gentle roll, filling the air with a constant humming. _

_"Did I tell you that I love it out here?" I say when I stop next to him._

_"It's wonderful, isn't it?" He wraps his arms around me and starts rubbing my back. I immediately feel much warmer._

_"How did you find this place?" Looking around me I take in the scenery that lies quietly in the fading light. There is no house, no other human being as far as I can see. We're totally alone._

_Harm doesn't reply immediately. Instead he lets go of me, taking my hand he leads me further towards the water. For a moment we stand there in silence, watching as the waves roll in._

_"I promised you to make it special." Harm's voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. His words seem to dance on the waves, rolling in and out with them, resounding in my head and in my heart._

_A shiver runs down my spine. So it's going to happen this weekend. I suspected it the moment Harm asked me to wrap up my cases not 36 hours ago._

_"A little getaway," he said when I asked him why._

_Yet now, that we're standing here, my hand wrapped in his, the light wind playing through my hair, it is completely different from a simple suspicion or the dream I had ever since we came back from Fallon. Now this is for real._

_"Let's take a walk."_

_I nod my head and turn left. We walk along the beach, just above the waterline. I don't know why, but not a word is said, we both seem to be lost in the silence around us, maybe trying to savor the peacefulness. After a while I feel the wind pick up a bit, not enough to chill me really, but enough to make me move a little nearer to Harm. Looking at me with a smile he wraps his arm around me, pulling me even closer. That's when I realize that over the past minutes the light has changed. What was bathed in orange then is now glowing in a fiery red._

_"Harm, look," I say stopping in my tracks to turn around and face the ocean and the horizon._

_We are both captured by the beautiful spectacle nature lets us witness. I've seen beautiful sunsets in DC too, but this is something completely different and it feels like we are the only people in the world seeing it, like this is our very own private sunset._

_Transfixed I keep staring at the red ball that vanishes into the waves. It isn't before Harm starts to speak, that I realize that his hand has slipped from my shoulder and is now holding mine. When I turn my head to look at him, this isn't the only thing that's changed. For a second my eyes search the space directly in front of my face, where I expected to see him, before they drop down and find Harm down in the sand, on one knee._

_I take a deep breath while my head keeps repeating 'This is it, this is it.' Suddenly, the shivers are back._

_"Sarah, I promised I would make it up to you. And I know that you've been waiting for this for quite a long time. God knows so have I. So here we are – just you and me. This is the place and time where I want to properly ask you Sarah MacKenzie, 'Will you marry me?'."_

_I watch as he opens a small box. Immediately the last of the red rays of light get caught in the single stone that's held in the middle of the silver band. It starts to glow like a fire is lit inside, the same fire that now burns in my heart, quickly taking hold of my whole body._

_I nod my head, unable to form any words. Then an "oh my god," escapes my lips as my brain finally starts to register what just happened. I drop to my knees in front of Harm and wrap my arms around him in a swift motion. My lips find his without delay. My kiss clearly speaks of the answer my brain was incapable to formulate before._

_However, when we part I confirm it with a "Yes, definitely yes". I place another, quicker kiss on his lips before I add, "I love you, Harm"._

_His face lights up in a smile, not the cocky flyboy smile he has down so well, but the flyboy smile that speaks of all the love he feels. Harm leans back on his heels, pulling his arms free from behind my back. I once again am captured by the beauty of the ring that's nestled into the black velvet. Slowly he reaches for it while I hold out my hand._

_Gently placing it onto my finger he says, "I love you Sarah,"_

"Sarah." It's a different voice, repeating my name.

Shaking my head, I break out of my daydream. Uncle Matt stands right in front of me looking worried.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"We need to go in a second," he says holding out his arm for me to take.

I look around the room, and indeed find Harriet gone. Quickly I reach for my bouquet of flowers before I link arms with Uncle Matt. Not a moment too soon – the wedding march just started playing. Before we leave the room, I cast a last glance at the rose bush my uncle brought – the roses burning in a bright red in the August sun.

Uncle Matt and I first need to walk along a smaller passageway before we arrive at the church's main entrance and can start down the aisle. And right where our way meets with the aisle, there he stands – Clayton Webb, first leaned against one of the columns half hidden in the shadows, but stepping into the light once he sees us approaching.

My eyes instantly lock onto him. He wears his usual three piece suit. And I have to say that he looks good, something I wouldn't have expected, if I were quite honest. His eyes never leave mine as Uncle Matt and I move towards him on our way. Once we're close enough I see a smile on Clay's lips.

When we arrive at the place he stands I hear his whispered, "Congratulations. You deserve this happiness, Sarah".

Surprised I turn my head and I see, that even though his smile looks kind of sad, he still meant what he said. I can tell from the look in his eyes, this is something he can't hide behind the mask of a CIA agent.

In the next second we're already past him and Clay stepped back into the dim light, yet I can still feel his eyes on me. And I am glad I do, because it means a lot to me that he is here today. I know that there was a time when I wouldn't have been, but once I sorted through all that was our relationship, before and after Paraguay, it came down to the fact that Clay was, and maybe still is, a friend. And not just mine, but Harm's too. I keep pondering Clay for a bit longer.

Until the moment we reach the start of the aisle and turn to face to the altar. This is when I first spot Harm, standing their in his dress whites waiting for me. And as we slowly proceed, in tune with the music, everything outside the line that runs between Harm and me drifts out of focus. There is just the two of us in this world.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

_Baby, tell me how can I tell you  
That I love you more than life!  
Show me how can I show you  
That I'm blinded by your light!  
When you touch me I can touch you  
To find out the dream is true!  
I love to be loved, I need to be loved  
I love to be loved by you!  
_

**-T-O-P- **

-G-U-N-

I take a deep breath to compose myself when it's time to walk up to the altar. Sergei comes to join us and steps in between Bud and Keeter when they line up behind me. Once we're standing there, I feel myself getting a little calmer. It might be due to the fact, that Bud stands right behind me and radiates a strong confidence or that I keep repeating his words in my head. "You're here now and that's what counts." I know that he is right.

I cast a last glance over the present guests, everybody's there. The opening of a door behind me makes me turn slightly. Chaplain Turner, who's well again, gets out of a small room to resume his place.

The moment he does, the music starts. I know it's a song both Sarah and I have chosen, but I can't remember the title for the life of me, though I'm sure it's not important now anyway. As if the soft tunes were an unmistakable signal, the audience goes completely silent. For a while nothing happens.

Then I see a little blond boy round the corner and start down the way towards me. I can see his bright smile as he sticks his right hand into the basket he's holding. Soon after, the first handful of rose petals lands on the floor. I don't know what Harriet and Bud did, but today the two-year-old is walking slowly yet still having the time of his life scattering the petals. I can hear his laughter drifting towards me as his eyes follow the dance of the petals he'd tossed into the air.

A few steps behind Jimmy Mattie and Chloe are walking side by side. Both are clad in similar dresses and it seems like they've grown so much since I last saw them for lunch yesterday. I know that both of them are young women already, but it's somehow easier to ignore that when they wear jeans and a sweatshirt instead of a tight fitting gown. I will probably never adjust to the fact that Mattie won't stay the way she was when we first met. And I still remember Chloe as the bubbly child that hid on the elevator. Nevertheless, as they are now walking down the aisle so graciously in their dazzling dresses, I can't suppress the image that it soon might be either of them to walk down a similar aisle last.

By now Jimmy has reached us and runs to his father. Out of the corner of my eye I see Bud leaning down and kissing his son's head before he turns him around and shows him in the direction where his older brother sits. The boy strolls over and is picked up by Chloe's grandmother to be seated next to her. She takes the basket from his hands and whispers something in Jimmy's ear, after which he claps his little hands together happily.

When I turn my eyes back to the two bridesmaids, they are mere feet away from me and I am greeted by their bright smiles. The two girls are literally beaming with pride. They slowly come to a stop at their assigned places, now waiting like the rest of the party.

A new song picks up after a moment of silence after Mattie and Chloe reached the altar. I know that this is Harriet's sign to start. We wait some more before she too turns the corner. The sharp intake of breath next to me tells me that I'm not the only one thinking that Harriet looks absolutely stunning. From the moment she can see us, her eyes are fixed on Bud and they never leave him for the whole way. It seems like he's her guideline. Their gazes only part when she turns left to stand next to Chloe.

Again the music stops and all of a sudden butterflies flutter in my stomach. The feeling sends a pricking through my whole body and makes me shiver inside.

This is the moment.

The wedding march starts.

Seconds creep by dreadfully slowly. The world around me seems to fall into a haze. Where I heard the rustling of dresses or the clicking of cameras before, all that reaches my ear now are the muted notes of the wedding march. I feel the beating of my heart in every part of my body. All my muscles seem to be throbbing in a synchronized rhythm. I find it hard to breathe.

It takes a lifetime for the two people to complete the short way to the start of the aisle.

But then she is there, on the arm of her uncle. Our eyes connect instantly. It's then, that I calm down completely. There is nothing to be nervous about. Sarah is there and she is coming to me. This is the end of a dance that lasted nine years.

Without ever breaking the bond between our eyes, I can still see every tiny detail of her. I see the petite white flowers that are nestled into the strands of her hair. I follow the line of pearls around her neck that seem to shine. I can't ignore the tone of her skin that contrasts so marvelously against the color of her dress. I realize the red roses her bouquet consists of. And I see the sparkling of her engagement ring, whenever some flashlight gets caught in it.

The moment I first saw the sparkling ring on her finger is still a vivid memory in my heart.

_I know that this is the perfect moment. The last rays of sunlight dance on the waves and the incoming waters hum a soft song. I speak the words without hesitation and they come right from the heart. I look up at Sarah; see how she struggles with the words. But I know that it isn't because she doesn't know the answer, but because it's hard to finally put something into words that you have kept secret for so long. The next moment however, her lips give me an answer that can't be misunderstood. The one answer I've been waiting for. _

_"Yes, definitely yes," I hear her say._

_And even though I knew it, it still amazes me. Sarah MacKenzie has officially said yes to me. Her next words bring it home even more._

_"I love you, Harm."_

_The smile that builds on my lips is something that comes naturally, for it reflects all the emotion inside of me. This very moment I feel like I could fly. The one dream, I've been dreaming for so long has finally come true._

_I reach for the ring and gently place it on her finger._

_"I love you Sarah."_

_It is then, that I see the tiny rays of light that dance over her hand when they are reflected and broken by the diamond that's in the middle of the silver band. The light draws a rainbow of colors on her hand and I can't keep myself from staring at it. I can't stop looking at the way it dances over her hand when she moves her muscles. I'm fascinated by the contrast between the colors, the tone of her skin and the darkness that slowly falls around us._

All these tiny details add up to a composition that fits her perfectly.

It's a perfection I will forever connect with the moment when nothing else mattered but the fact that Sarah MacKenzie was walking towards me on her wedding day.

**-J-A-G- **

-J-A-G-

_I know they're gonna say our love's not strong enough to last forever  
And I know they gonna say that we'll give up because of heavy weather  
But how can they understand that our love is just heaven-sent  
We keep on going on and on cause this is where we both belong… _

Baby, tell me how can I tell you  
That I love you more than life!  
Show me how can I show you  
That I'm blinded by your light!  
When you touch me I can touch you  
To find out the dream is true!  
I love to be loved –  
I need, yes I need to be loved –  
I love to be loved by you.  
Yes, I love to be loved by you.

**-T-H-E- **

-E-N-D-


End file.
